Lake Catchacoma circa 1960

I was young so this story is from the memory of a little boy perhaps 9 years old or so, the detail may be skewed from that perspective.

Sue and Dave had rented a cottage on Lake Catchacoma in the Kawarthas, it was summer. Tim & Helen (Dad & Mom) had joined them for a visit. I recall the lake being a wonderful spot and I remember fishing from the dock at all hours, but in particular the evening, where I used my trusty “hula popper” to catch some bass as the mist rose from the still water. One evening after dinner, I was down at the dock and heard quite a ruckus punctuated with fits of laughter coming from the cottage. I continued to focus on my fishing but there was clearly something very “up” at the cottage so I went to investigate.

Turns out that when washing the dishes, a large bowl had found its way to the floor and was now in several pieces. Apparently, this was something rather special to the cottage owners. Despite the laughter, there was great concern. In typical fashion, these four adults found humour in their dilemma of how to either fix or replace this bowl. I don’t think there was a solution found that night however the next morning I arose to a plan that would take us scouring the Kawartha Lakes region looking for an identical replacement. I quickly learned this was not an ordinary bowl, why else would we spend a full day driving endlessly to antique dealers? All I remember was it was big, it was blue, not an ordinary blue but a very special blue.

I don’t think we found a bowl that day, at least not the “right bowl” but I think it ended up with a plan to glue the broken one back together, my Dad was quite skilled at repair…

I don’t know how the loss was explained to the cottage owners nor what, if any compensation, was made. I do know that my parents had a large blue & white bowl, whether it was acquired on that day in the Kawarthas, I’m not certain. This bowl lived at our Weslemkoon cottage. It was white and blue and it was big. It was affectionately called the “barf basin”. I’m not sure it ever saw duty in that regard however it did become my Dad’s favourite bowl for salads and his famous corn succotash. This bowl graced many family meals shared with the entire Robson & Rowswell clans at Weslemkoon.

I fondly remember that time at Catchacoma and the saga of the broken bowl. My Dear Aunt Sue would remember this story and likely correct my childhood memory. And that’s ok because we’d both laugh as we recalled our own memory of that special time. This is one of only many wonderful memories of times spent together as family.

God Bless Sue, you are one special lady and we are fortunate that you graced us with your presence.

Dave Rowswell