This smartly renovated, pretty two-storey home on the shores of Mud Lake is just twenty minutes from downtown Kingston. The way I see it, you can leave your office at five and be in the kayak, care-free, half an hour later.
It’s not really a swimming lake, this one, or at least it’s not a lake I’d choose to swim in. The sensation of mud, or weed, around my legs is gonna start-up some pretty serious panic mechanism. My daughter, on the other hand, has friends up that way, just a couple doors down, and will regularly throw herself from the bank as if into a sea of the finest cashmere. It’s mad and I worry about her sanity sometimes.
But here’s the thing: if what you want is a pretty-as-all-get-out body of water to glide across on skates in the winter, or in a canoe, or if you want to cast a line of monofilament knowingly into the dappled shade beneath yonder willow, this is your place, and I’m happy to be with you, knocking the caps off a couple of IPA, one for you and one for me.
But I digress.
The house is a very good one. There are three bedrooms and 1.5 baths, a finished and bright walk-out basement with a pellet stove that does the lion’s share of heating the whole place. There is gleaming black granite in the kitchen and plenty of hardwood underfoot.
Those are the basics, though basic isn’t how they feel, not in the slightest. Most of the windows were replaced four or five years ago, and the garage was converted into even more living space (though switching it back would be a piece of cake).
The above-ground pool is in good shape and set on the slope such that you can enter right off the deck. I crouched down on the boards above that pool and I reckon you drop into those lightly chlorinated waters and gaze off at the lake between the trees and the effect would be of immersing yourself in an infinity pool. But don’t quote me on that. Let’s just agree it would feel mighty fine.
Before I sign off I want to mention that there are grand old cedars at the water’s edge that twist and yearn skywards, and you’ll want to run a hand over the trunks of those as you peel down the slope. You do that and then, as you nose out between the reeds, headed for open water, you’ll feel there’s not a thing wrong in your part of the world. Guaranteed.
The virtual tour from which I lifted that marvelous picture up top of the view from the dining room table is right here. There are more like that.
And here, any minute now, is the realtor.ca listing.