Truths and Half Truths

Where I Live IV

This weekend my oldest friend in the world, Gord, came to visit.  Gord and I have known one another since elementary school in Winnipeg; he was Best Man at my wedding, has always been my closest (and sometimes only) confidante, knows (almost) every secret I have; and when he and I get together after six months or a year or even two years of not seeing one another, the conversation picks up as if the time before it had ended in a comma.

Circumstances being what they are, Gord has not been down this way before, so this was a chance to show off my Island, albeit at a time of year when it doesn't have its makeup on.  But true beauty doesn't need makeup, does it?

We started off on Friday going into Charlottetown - I live a few kilometres North of the city, which is the largest metropolis on the Island.  And to give you a sense of just what that means, here's a view of the downtown core:

 

Looking for a building higher than seven stories?  Good luck with that.  The two church spires at the left in the distance are the tallest structures on the Island.  There are two (count 'em, two) escalators in town.  The main downtown street has diagonal parking.  That tells you all you need to know about its size. 

As you can see, it was a blustery, rainy day, and after lunch at the restaurant where my son-in-law is the chef, (and it was delicious), we only spent a short time exploring the city.  There was food to buy for supper and a liquor store to hit and other errands, and that night we ate Atlantic salmon and mussels and drank and talked late into the morning.

On Saturday, we did the real Island tour.  We went to the North Shore of the Island.  It's 120 miles long, much of it like this:

And this:

And this:

The surf was up ...

And, as I'd hoped, the Island was both beautiful and dramatic ...

So ... even without makeup, the Island was gorgeous.  I love showing it off to visitors.  Like Gord.  Or ... you know ... like you.

Before and After

There's a reason it's called "Fall".  This was a week ago ...

 

... and this morning ... the same scene ...

Where I Live III

My good friend Wordgirl, in addition to having a lovely, biting essay on passing of Jane Wyatt and the role of women in 60's sitcoms, has invited us all to show off our front doors.  This is a lovely extension to Laura's  recent invitation to do a photographic essay of where we live.  As a bonus, Stacy took us inside the front door, so I think I'll do that, too.

In many homes, the front door is where guests are welcomed.  That rarely - in fact, never - happens in our house.  Here's our front door ...

There's no canopy above it, which I think is a shame - I think a porch across the front would make a more welcoming entrance.  That's part of our long range plan for the house - find a design that is architecturally authentic and will enhance, rather than disrupt, the rather austere lines of the front elevation.

But it's a lovely old farm house built in 1864, and the front door wasn't for much more than show back then.  Things haven't changed much ...

Anybody who comes to our house drives right past the front door, to a large parking area in back ... and this entrance ...

I built the deck - won an award for it, too, thank you very much.  The door opens into a small mud room.  To the left, my office - in fact, my monitor is directly behind the middle window there.  To the right is the main house, specifically, the family room.  You can see that window ...

... on the left side of this picture ...

This is the most-used room in the house.  This picture is taken from the country kitchen, and doesn't show the TV to the right.  It does show the wood stove, and beside it the Dutch door leading up to the servant's quarters - or as we like to call it, "Allie's Room".

On a cold winter's night, you don't get much more cosy than this room ...

... unless it's this room. 

This is the front parlour.  When we have parties, this is where the music kicks in.  It's also got a big wood stove, and a bay window that looks out over the front lawn, with a seat in the window that is perfect for curling up in and reading when the winter winds are howling.

If you were to come into our house via the front door - and as I say, nobody does - this is the first room you would encounter..  It's warm and welcoming and feels just right for entertaining ... but it's also a nice place to sit, late at night, and watch the fire flicker in the stove.

There's not much I don't love about this house.

One Last Spurt of Fall Photos

I've added a few more photos to the Seasons album (link to the left).  Here are some samples:

I'm a sucker for fall colours, and water and shoreline does it for me, too ...

One morning, there was this lovely mist hanging over everything - including this pond ...

This photo, with the golfer cropped out, is already in the album.  But the more I looked at it, the more I thought the golfer was part of the whole.

Stanhope, near the North Shore of Prince Edward Island.  In the background is Brackley Bay and Covehead Harbour

Update To The Photo Album

I added a bunch of photos this morning (Saturday), including this shot of the trees in my driveway.  They're just pretty scenery, I know.  But it's where I live and I want you to come visit, so go have a look.

Fall Is All Around Us

A couple of days ago I went for a walk out in the fields behind my house, just trying to capture some of the fall foliage before a heavy windstorm stripped the trees bare.  I've put them into an album with some other pics from my Island, and I'm going to try to have a running photographic record of the seasons and their changes here.

Have a peek at the album  - the link is top left - for some colours that you wouldn't expect to see in nature ...

Sat, Oct. 14 Update! A whack of new photos from Saturday ...

Where I Live II - Frosty Morning

This morning, around 7:00 AM, I took Roxy down to the mailbox with me - it's on the main hightway, about 100 yards down my driveway.  About 3/4 of the way to the road, in the middle of the yard, there's a rusted, overgrown, antique piece of farm machinery  ...

I like to believe that this hulking, delapidated skeleton was once hitched behind a horse and worked the fields in back of my house.  If you look closely at it, as I have, you will see evidence of strain and wear, missing teeth and chipped tines.  And if you listen you can hear the "Hup!  Hup!" from some long-ago summer morning, the farmer urging on a broadchested Morgan through the reawakening land.

I don't know who painted the seat blue, or when - it's really much more gaudy than this picture would lead you to believe, an odd eccentricity that pleases me no end. 

I've resisted all efforts to have it declared as junk and hauled away.  It is, I suppose, junk.  But hard work over generations should lead to a dignified, sedate retirement, and it warms me to provide just that for this old soul.

Roxy waited by the machinery as I went to pick up the newspaper.  It was a chilly morning; 2 degrees C, or 37 degrees Fahrenheit.  A clear, cloudless night meant a heavy front had settled on the land.  At my mailbox, it still clung to the grass, bushes, and trees, its cold fingers yet to be pried off by the first warm rays of autumn sun. 

I love early morning in the fall.  The leaves are only now starting their change.  In a week or two this Island will be a Wonderland of incredible colours.  I only hope my camera  - and my skills - are up to the challenge.

Where I Live

My dear friend Laura at Vitamin Sea has challenged us to "Play tour guide, and photograph your neighborhood or parts of your geographical area that you would like others to see."  She's got a bunch of links up to people who are doing just that.  I thought I'd play along ... so:

To get to where I live, you have to cross a bridge.  And not just a teensy little bridge.  This one is close to ten miles long over the Northumberland Strait between Cape Tormentine, New Brunswick, and Borden, Prince Edward Island.  If you look closely just above the water in this pic, you can see the Confederation Bridge.  (You may have to click on the image to enlarge)

Once you cross the bridge, you're in some incredibly beautiful green rolling hills.  In summer the greens are breathtaking, both in the sheer amount of green and the million different shades:

And beaches?  Why yes, we do have beaches - the entire North side of the Island is one long 120 mile white sandy beach.  Liberally sprinkled with scenes like this:

But Laura wanted us to go out and take photos, not just grab ones we had sitting in a file on our disk.  So this is my 'hood, taken in the last hour:

From my woodpile, which is about halfway towards being safely stored in my shed after spending the summer seasoning, toward the garage (and further to the house):

Our apple tree, an ancient thing that bears very tart apples, perfect for pies and crisps and crumbles but sour enough to make you make a funny face if you bite into one right off the branch:

I have raked probably four bushels of apples off the ground and still, after a windy day like yesterday, this is what I get:

But there is a certain beauty in an apple on a tree.  I can see this one from my office window.  Today.  Tomorrow?  Well, Allie's making pies ...

Anne's Birthday

Saturday we took a short drive through the hills near our home, heading for the North Shore of Prince Edward Island.

Prince Edward Island is small - 120 miles long, 40 miles wide at its thickest point, but far less than that in most places.  It's a tiny crescent nestled in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, just above where Nova Scotia and New Brunswick meet.

The North Shore is essentially 120 miles of the most incredible white sand beaches and dune systems you'll ever find.  But beyond being a summer playground for thousands upon thousands of families, the North Shore is also home to Anne of Green Gables.

Some of you have read the book by Lucy Maud Montgomery - the story of a tiny red-headed waif who is adopted by a farmer and his sister and comes to live on this Island.  If you haven't, you should; beyond being a lovely children's story, it's a very literate and articulate view of a society that existed around the turn of the last century.

As you will see if you visit the link above (and I wish you would), the Island's substantial tourism industry is largely built on two elements:  golf (this place was recently named Canada's Number One Golf Destination) and Anne of Green Gables. 

Anne is an icon here.  There is a musical based on the book that has been playing to sold-out audiences every summer since (wait for it) 1965.  I would have been 11 years old then (spare yourself the cypherin' - I'm 52). 

There are Anne of Green Gables gift shops selling all manner of Anne tchotchkes, Anne of Green Gables tea rooms, and Anne of Green Gables cottages.  Think Graceland, and replace Elvis with a red-headed girl in pigtails.  That's what she means to Island tourism.

Much of the Anne idolatry comes from Japan - Anne of Green Gables was the first English novel translated into Japanese, and it became a school text.  Millions of Japanese girls - living in a society that repressed their freedom and individuality - had their imagination swept away by this spirited, outspoken character, and "Red-Haired Anne"  became their heroine.  It is not at all uncommon to see a Japanese girl - sometimes a teenager, but often young or even middle-aged women - sitting on the lawn of Green Gables House in Cavendish, quietly weeping, overcome by the experience.

Not far from Cavendish, you'll find Avonlea Village, a "recreation" of the fictional village from the Anne stories.  It's a great family attraction, offering lots for younger kids to do, including pig races, barnyard animals, activities, concerts, and what is essentially a day-long musical play performed by characters from the novel. 

The actors stay in character throughout the day - if a kid tells Gilbert Blythe that she took a car from Maine to get there, he is baffled - he's heard of train travel and steamboats, but " ... what is this "car" you speak of?  Must be something new - we never hear tell of 'em here. " They perform in concerts, pose for endless pictures with arms wrapped around kids from all over, and generally try to make the day a rewarding and memorable experience for the families who come to visit.

The past few summers Allison has been working up at Avonlea, often playing the part of Josie Pye, Anne's nemesis.  She loves playing the malevolent Josie, although (true fact) she does get kicked a lot by kids who don't like her being mean to Anne.

But last week, the actor who played Anne all summer went back to University in Ontario, so there was a new red-head in town ...

... and how lucky were we that - as it turned out - Anne was celebrating a birthday the day we went to Avonlea.

And what a coincidence:  later that night, we had a family dinner to celebrate Allison's birthday, too! 22 years old and she plays a 14 year-old.  No wonder she still gets carded at pubs.

Doing the REAL Dew

It was a lovely morning, considering the forecast called for rain beginning around 9.  I got out to the golf course around 5:30, figuring I'd get my 18 holes in and be home and cooled out before the first drops fell.

I took my camera along, and caught:

this fella, still flying low after a winter spent feasting on Florida's reknowned morbidly obese goldfish . 

And speaking of Florida, a little later on I came upon a sign you almost never see on the shores of a water hazard in the Gator State:

I did neither, by the way.