Windsor Cottage Chronicles

When we bought our lake cottage, we were living in England — happily straddling life as both American and British subjects. This was the dual-citizenship version of having your cake and eating it too. Windsor Castle was an easy drive, and we found ourselves close by every week or two. So when Hubbie hung a sign on our New Hampshire abode that read Windsor Cottage ,  how many of you assumed we were hopelessly nostalgic for England — or even angling for a royal connection? Go ahead, ponder that. The history of our sliver of lake land begins long ago. Native Americans first inhabited Lake Soo-Nipi  or "Wild Goose Waters". Then, European settlers — mine among them (maybe yours too?) — arrived, saw the land, drew up deeds, and declared ownership. 

Lake Sunapee has always felt like a spiritual place—with its shimmering waters, the echoing calls of loons, eagles soaring overhead, and the granite ski slopes standing sentinel to the south. Each season brings its own magic, but autumn, with its riot of color and morning mist, feels especially sacred. We’ve broken a bit of that silence with construction, trading tranquility for the steady rumble of progress. Walkers and joggers stand still and rubberneck in disbelief because, truthfully, the excavation process is pretty amazing. If you’ve ever tried to build a sandcastle using only a teaspoon, congratulations—you now understand our excavation method at Windsor Cottage. Our builders have been working heroically this week, but with such complicated access and not a lot of room to maneuver,  the biggest piece of machinery that can really do the job is little Doug the Excavator. He’s adorable—like a Tonka truck that grew up and got a union card. Picture this: Dan the Man, laser-focus...