Is there a Master Plan at work?

How will you know that you’ve got “it.”

If you don’t know what “it” is?

Donna and I have been fortunate to visit several remarkable places. We want to share some images of these unique spots we’ve visited over the years. Each destination has been extraordinary in its own way.

We’ve experienced countless sunrises and sunsets, including those from the iconic cave houses of Santorini and the hillside of Ravello overlooking Italy’s Amalfi Coast. We’ve enjoyed the beauty of Croad Vineyard near Paso Robles in California’s wine country and captured every hour of the day from the "View Cabins" in Monument Valley, Navajo country. Our travels also took us to the Talvaina Inn on Oregon’s Pacific coast and aboard a 52' Beneteau in the British Virgin Islands. Each place offered its unique charm and beauty.

This portfolio showcases a selection of these incredible experiences. While it may not include every excellent location or the most luxurious, it represents our journey, and we are deeply grateful for each one. The true gift of these experiences is how they continually remind us of our many blessings.

The places we've visited range from spectacular natural wonders to impressive man-made sites, some close to home and others far away. Our travels have included trips with immediate family, friends, strangers, and clients. Reflecting on these moments, we are grateful for our many blessings.

While we've loved visiting new places, exploring them, and meeting people, there's something uniquely special about returning home. Our familiar surroundings might be someone else's distant dream, but I share our little paradise with great pride and joy. What makes it truly special is the time spent there with family and friends—where our children grew up and where we’ve gathered around campfires, gone on canoe trips, and gazed up at the night sky. Whether watching meteor showers, the Aurora Borealis, or spotting the Andromeda Galaxy, the magic lies in these experiences. Our story with this special place has a fascinating beginning, which I’ll share below.

I have a technical note here—I haven't been able to show the image locations. This is a work in progress and will be repaired as soon as possible.

“Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze
Sunrise, sunset”

Lyrics from Fiddler on the Roof’s Sunrise, Sunset.

The Oxtongue Lake night sky is a sight to behold.

Articulating what you want.

Donna and I have been goal-setters since the early days of our marriage in 1976. We often walked around the block, discussing our plans for the short-term, mid-term, long-term, and even our retirement years. I’ve been creating bucket lists and setting articulated goals since my mid-twenties. While not all goals were financial, we did include some monetary aspirations. Our goals covered personal and business aspirations, ranging from large and ambitious to more minor yet significant.

I’ve always believed that writing down our goals and sharing them with the universe helps to crystallize them in my mind. Remarkably, many of these goals have been achieved—some ahead of schedule, some later than hoped, and some in ways even better than expected. Conversely, a few didn’t materialize; over time, some goals became more or less important to us.

One of our favourite goal stories is about our cottage. Early in our marriage, we dreamed of a "nice to have" retirement place. Initially, our description was vague, but over time, we refined it. I wanted a lakefront property, while Donna agreed but specified that she didn’t want to climb down a hillside to reach the water. She preferred a shallow entrance for the children to play rather than a deep spot at the end of a dock. I didn’t want a place requiring constant upkeep, like lawn mowing or maintaining the lot. We wanted easy, year-round access, privacy with a sense of community, and nearby hiking trails. The location needed to be close by and within a manageable budget.

and now for the rest of the story…

This goal-setting process taught us the value of defining and refining our goals, making our dreams more attainable and meaningful.

In the fall of 1988, we were camping in Algonquin Park with Donna’s sister Karen and her husband John Sakala. Despite the rain that had persisted all weekend, John suggested we visit Ragged Falls Provincial Park. The Oxtongue River tumbles down a rocky face in a series of picturesque zigzags, creating a charming scene worth exploring up close. While it might not be a massive waterfall, it has a unique allure.

On our way out of the Ragged Falls Parking lot, we stopped at the stop sign on Highway Sixty, the main road through Algonquin Park’s southern corridor. While waiting for traffic to clear so we could return to the camper, John noticed a pickup truck with a hand-painted “Cottage for Sale” sign. Once the road was clear, John turned onto Harris Road, saying he wanted to check out the cottage. I thought, “Who would want a cottage way up here?”

Harris Road was extremely winding, and the 2.5 km distance from the main route to the cottage felt like it would never end. The rain clouds seemed to be lifting as we approached. The final stretch was a fire route leading to a charming laneway that has become one of my favourite places. The road dipped and narrowed, and the sun broke through the clouds as we neared the end. Children were playing outside.

The cottage was modest, sitting on a small piece of land on the lake. It was surrounded by water, shaped somewhat like Italy—our “Windy Point” was at the bottom of the boot, between the toe and the heel. Directly in front was the main body of the lake, with a bay between the toe and the ankle and another bay beyond the heel. Two islands provided striking landmarks in the distance. Do you remember that list we’ve been working on?

The cottage met almost everything on our list except for two significant concerns: it was an hour farther away than we wanted and twice the price we could afford.

When we arrived, the sun greeted us with a view resembling the photo below. It was love at first sight. The actual negotiation wasn't with the seller; it was between Donna and me. I knew the price was double our budget, and the location was an hour farther than we’d hoped. I asked the owner, who was working in a workshop at the point if he could hold the property for us for 24 hours, and he agreed.

I remember Donna and I sitting at a picnic table—her on the bench and me on the table—where I prepared for what I hoped would be my best sales pitch ever. The distance was the more straightforward objection to overcome. I calculated that, at most, we would visit the cottage ten to fifteen times a year and could manage the extra hour each way. Donna agreed.

The financial pitch was more difficult. In 1988, my income had consistently increased, sometimes by as much as 30% from previous years, thanks to a successful career in retail commission sales. Donna, familiar with mortgages from her time working as my father’s real estate secretary, and I discussed our financial situation. I started by asking if we could handle the extra payment now. When she confirmed we could, I pressed further. I proposed a scenario where our income dropped by 10%, asking if we could still afford it. Her affirmative answer gave me confidence, so I asked, “What if our income dropped by 30%?” I pounded my fist on the table for emphasis. When she again confirmed that we could manage, I knew we had ourselves a cottage!

One of the many incredible sunsets we've had the pleasure to take in on Oxtongue Lake from the "Kerba Kabin"

Do you believe in destiny or a master plan? Do you think everything happens for a reason? Or do you think that chance and coincidence are simply fascinating to ponder?

This next paragraph is from Chat GPT to answer the above questions.

The questions of destiny, a master plan, and the role of chance are profoundly philosophical and have intrigued thinkers for centuries. Here's a take on each perspective:

Destiny or Master Plan: Some people find comfort in the belief that there's a grand design or purpose to our lives, suggesting that events unfold according to a predetermined plan. This view can be reassuring, offering a sense of order and purpose, especially in times of uncertainty or hardship. It posits that forces beyond our control guide our lives, whether they be divine, cosmic, or some inherent structure in the universe.
Everything Happens for a Reason: This perspective suggests that events, even seemingly random or unfortunate ones, are part of a larger scheme that eventually leads to growth, understanding, or improvement. It implies that there is a meaningful connection between events, even if that meaning isn't immediately clear. This view can offer profound solace and a way to find purpose in difficult situations.
Chance and Coincidence: Others argue that chance and coincidence are the driving forces behind the events in our lives. From this viewpoint, many occurrences are random without any intrinsic purpose. This perspective can highlight the randomness and unpredictability of life, suggesting that we make meaning through our responses and interpretations rather than through any predetermined plan.

Whether you lean towards destiny, see everything as happening for a reason, or view events as driven by chance, it can shape how you perceive and navigate your experiences. Each perspective offers a different lens through which to view life's unfolding, and many people find that a blend of these views helps them make sense of their own experiences.

Sunrise from the South bay side of the cottage.

The stars were all in alignment

Reflecting on our journey, everything seemed to fall into place as part of a grand design. I believe there’s a master plan guiding our lives, even if it’s not always clear to us. Several vital elements converged to bring us to this charming cottage.

Our story begins in the late 1950s and early 1960s. I went camping with my father along the Red Sea in Egypt as a child. Imagine a narrow two-lane road, often partly covered in sand, with one side leading to a breathtaking seashore just a hundred yards away and the other to towering hills ranging from 1,000 to 3,000 feet high, devoid of trees. In August 1964, at age ten, my family and I camped in Algonquin Park. I was enchanted by the dense forests and wondered who had planted all those trees. Since then, Algonquin has held a special place in my heart, and buying a cottage outside the park feels like living next to paradise.

Negotiating the price of the cottage was a smooth process. Bob initially asked for $148,000. Donna and I considered starting at $128,000 but decided our highest offer would be $132,000. Although I’ve been used to bargaining since my time in the Middle East, I don't like negotiations. So, I approached Bob directly: “Bob, I don’t enjoy the usual haggling. What’s the lowest price you’d be comfortable with?” Remarkably, his answer was $132,000, aligning perfectly with our offer. We shook hands and closed the deal.

My friend Ed Farquharson and I had made several trips into Algonquin Park before we bought the cottage. As we began a journey in the park the year before, we crossed two bridges, including one over Oxtongue Lake. I remember saying aloud how wonderful it would be to own a cottage by a lake like that. Less than a year later, my wish came true. Could this be a case of divine intervention?

We were fortunate to notice the homemade "Cottage for Sale" sign. The day before, it had been mounted on a post and wouldn’t have been visible as we left the Ragged Falls parking lot. Bob Moore decided to protect the sign by placing a truck that morning in his pickup. Was this mere chance?

One of the biggest challenges in finalizing the purchase was convincing Donna that we could afford the payments even with a 30% drop in income due to a downturn in the economy and subsequent market correction. I had to prove my claim, so I changed jobs and saw my income drop from $60,000 to $19,000 in the first year, alongside a $4,000 orthodontic bill for our daughter, Tara.

Though we’ve created beautiful memories, there will come a time when we’ll have to part with this little piece of heaven. Given the many stories and experiences we’ve had here, it will be tough, some of which will find their way into this blog.

For now, thank you for following our journey.