This is a story with no particular point, really, other than to illustrate that stuff happens.

It begins last November when MrWI64 arrived at the property in the hinterland to find a shattered living room window and a dead hawk behind his recliner.

With the help of a visiting grandson, he began to clean up the kajillion shards of glass that had sprayed some 18 feet into the next room – glass in carpeting, on chairs and in pillows. He figures the hawk – chasing who knows what – shot through that window at shotgun velocity.

This property, developed by his parents nearly 50 years ago, is remote. Accessed by boat across some of the fiercest tidal currents on the continent, its views are devastating. A true retreat, it is MrWI64’s favourite place on earth. I love it too, although with less capacity for isolation.

Anyway, the following day a local insurance adjuster was collected by boat. She saw the deceased hawk, the shattered window and the interior damage and deemed pretty much everything needed to be replaced.

Not long after, we received a letter from the insurance company saying, since everything on the property is old, including the window, it was discounting our claim estimate by 35% for the window and 65% for everything else. This inspired some passionate letter writing. The result: the insurance company agreed to full replacement costs of the window and glass-embedded flooring. It wouldn’t budge on the rest and has since proposed increasing our annual premium by 25%. Needless to say, we’re shopping.

We engaged a local construction company to replace the window and the floor and, for the convenience of the workers, for the first time in the 22 years we’ve been running the property, MrWI64 left the water pump for the well running when we left.

Weeks passed, winter passed. We arrived last week to see the new floors and window, which have lightened, brightened and made safer the old girl. Thank you, hawk.

I plugged in my computer. No wifi.

I turned on the kitchen tap. Nothing. Not a drop.

In the weeks since that one extraordinary decision to leave the water pumping, a deep freeze had knocked out the pump and the pipes.

The wifi repair guy was collected by boat the following day.

The water is a more complicated fix that will require pretty much all the money allotted for furniture replacement.

One step forward, one step back.

It’s a pioneer life this week – washing and flushing by buckets.

We have wifi, apparently key to my quality of life.

And a heckuva view.

Across the water, I can see a road.