Mid-November

Finally got a chance to sit and write a few lines. I have been busy dealing with my sisters estate from afar. Since I am in Canada I have to give administration of Aprille's things to the attorney, Joie Rehcamp. My son was going to take care of it but his mother has erroneously convinced him it will somehow put him on the hook for money. Now I will have to pay a lawyer to do what Joey could have done and earned himself a few bucks. But he is very busy with work and school so I understand. I just wish he didn't hang on his mothers every word, as she is often just plain wrong.

The realtor that I have hired sent some pictures of the little house. It looks ransacked. Aprille kept it so neat. Her TVs and most other electronics are missing. The new futon that she loved has disappeared. I think the cousins must have thought that I had not been there nor knew what was in the house. I gave Bettejean, the daughter of my mothers oldest brother, the refrigerator for a church donation. Perhaps that meant "help yourself".

I do not really care. But it is very disrespectful and I myself felt a bit violated. In our family, and perhaps in most, when someone dies alone, the first "relative" on-site takes what plunder they may want.

It is tough to see what few remaining trinkets and art I knew in my childhood alone in that place. I think of all the abandoned properties I have inspected over the years and of flea-markets. There the last remaining worthless but sentimental treasures of a past life fade away to the dump or someone else's nick-knack shelf.

Little things of beauty meant so much to my mother and sister. The paintings, driftwood, colorful glass of all kinds. Some items belonged to our Great grandmother , Mary Riley. I suspect that these won't be preserved as I am stuck here and have no truly reliable caretaker.

Cold and harsh is the modern world. I suspect at the conclusion of all this I may be able to return to the States for a time. The where and why and when has yet to be determined.

In any case its a bright cool day here on the island. Winter looms as does my 53rd birthday one week from today. I may never know why my 61 year old sister, who seemed healthy in March, just died alone. An old friend told me sometimes an artistic heart just cannot bear the ugliness of the world and reality of life here. I think that my son is right when he says his aunt died of lonliness. She was lost without our mother.

Somehow I have managed to be tougher and more resolute than my sister. I am not as intelligent as she was. But she was my preschool teacher and allowed me to love a life of learning and travel. After the disaster of my life with Shel and the inordinate amount of suffering that caused I feel that some are correct in stating I am too sensitive and a dreamer.

My mother told me all we retain are our dreams and memories. Perhaps I do not hold the keys to fort knox, but in memories and dreams I am rich. Both fulfilled and unrealized. Maybe when I leave this place finally mission accomplished I can write the tale and again sit in the sun.

A legacy of visions.

FALL

So the fall is almost gone now. Its brilliant and very crisp. I found out from my son last Friday that my sister passed away at home sometime around that date. A visitor couldn't get an answer at the door so the police were called, broke in and found her in final rest in her living room chair. I had wondered why my calls and letters had been unanswered. I knew she was lonely and not feeling well when I left to return home last March.

I just wish I could have stayed local and been of some help-but at least we had our final trip together to the New Jersey shore of our childhood. I had hoped to stay nearby longer but dealing with family realities in Harrisburg and the unfriendliness of it made me long to return to the island.

Aprille had wanted to visit but I had to drive round-trip again and I just wasn't up to it after the ordeal in Pennsylvania last winter.

The family is all together again now save for one-yes, the last of the "Manduka's"- I hope my children get on the stick with career and weddings so I can see some grandkids-one thing is for sure I am next on the list.

Aprille was cremated at Newmyer funeral home in Harrisburg as per her request. The ashes are at our cousin Bettejean "Sis" Weber's home of Etters, and are to be scattered about my mothers ashes in the rose garden at the family home at 3937 Walnut Street.

I am glad cousin sissie (Mom's brother's-Harold Hatfield daughter) and her husband Russ have tried to help my sister and check on her during my travels. It is a shame my children, only a few miles away never really got to know or understand her life and talents, and pains. She was much like Van Gogh, but in actuality a much better artist.
She was my mentor and teacher who had me reading and doing math, playing chess at age 5.

Her intelligence misunderstood caused her pain and rejection in a cruel world. At age 61, missing her family and probably still our life on our Bucks County farm in the 60's and our trips to the Mexico, Florida, Canada and the New Jesey shore and Wyalusing (Homet's Ferry,PA) as children, succumbed as only a sensitive can to the ugliness of a wanton and brutal modern world, perhaps as it is.

She expressed herself in her music, writing and most of all art-I hope it can be preserved as her testimony.

Hurrican Bill

Well what was touted as a big storm really seemed like a few Arizona monsoon thundershowers to me. But it was my first maritime hurricane. Wow-its been a long time since I have written. This is due to the fact that I have an uncomfortable computer position and weak wi-fi connections.

What a great warm August! I didn't get as much fishing or beach time as I have been futzing around with Mary a lot. I am taking a break from that now and I doubt it will go over well..but I need some space and thinking time.

Shel seems quite happy in her new life and has blogged about it on this server. Now I come to the annual event of deciding whence to remain here and be hard-frozen or go off somewhere else to do whatever.

The kids have been okay with predictable Rhonda and girlfriend/boyfriend issues. I am planning on finally getting my truck fixed-a check showed up without explanation from my sister so it will be well spent.

Otherwise been fishing a little but my hands have been sore and spoiled it a bit.

I have plenty more to espouse upon and photos to post. I actually have two handwritten essays ready to go-hopefully this week.

One story discusses my dependence upon "signs" to decide various actions that I may take or not. Fall approacheth..I await a sign...or just winter it out again?? Guess I could go home and go back to work. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?

Canada Day

Well there is a lot to say on my fourth Canada Day here on PEI. I won't elaborate in this post but later when I can. I am working on the "Golden Coffin" essay and I will post that soon.

The whole town was down at the baywalk for fireworks tonight. Mostly school-aged kids and young families. The cool misty rain started just as the fireworks ended around 10:30. It was a night requiring a jacket and my hands grew a bit numb sitting on the fence for an hour. They started at 10, as that was really when it was dark enough at this latitude on July 1.

No mail from anyone other than Phil Benjamin today. He lost his birth certificate and I reminded him it had been in his dad's house in Monroeton in the safe. The house that should have been. Another gift from Rhonda to the family. The latter-day loss of two homes the kids could have had. I hope she is happy with the few dollars all the pain yielded. Watch the karma, Shel always says.

No word from her either but payday approacheth. She will probably be heard from. Happy July to all-back to creative writing soon, I promise.

Summer in Summerside

I have often commented on how this island is perhaps one of the best places in all of my travels to spend a summer. But allow for the fact that it is overcast most of the time. Each really bright warm day is a jewel from the sun gods. Often the wind shifts bringing shockingly cool air from some place still icy or of icy seas. My little beach at Green's shore, the "Bay walk' as we call it here is really a eel grass choked tidal flat.

The sand is coarse and brown and the sea smells 0f organic decay. I love it as it is as it should be, but many a passerby comments upon the weeds and the "smell". I can hear them as the walk by on the boardwalk while I am lounging hour after hour on the coarse red-brown sand.

They trot by with dogs and kids, some chattering in French, some on phones, some speaking too loudly about a local affair or their world travels. Please. I learn more while on the beach than I do at the wing or legion on Saturday night. My friend Mary doesn't like it when I socialize, especially with female friends. She hates it when I dance facing the seated folks. I think she hates my tan, and she sure dislikes my computer. I am also advised that my life is an abject failure and my misery is my punishment from God for my misdeeds and crimes against humanity, Rhonda, and Shel. I consider this as I soak up the sun and write here by the sea.

Somehow my punishment seems to be what all the moneyed folk walking on bay walk and touring the island for a few days long for. Early retirement. affordable housing. Cable TV. I guess I have missed the point somewhere but I am trying to figure out what everyone is so afraid of and what they are working so hard to accomplish.

I have done all of that. College. Started a business, made millions. Tahiti. My airplane, fleet of cars, my Mercedes, mansion and servants, Shel among them. Now I wait on the beach. All of the material props removed I am still on vacation. Those who visit here have to leave to return to whatever reality someone told them was the proper way to comport themselves. Pay your bills. Follow all the rules. Act like a sycophant-yes sir or ma mm. Don't question authority. Be afraid , yes awfully and horribly afraid.

For tomorrow you may be broke. Don't take a risk. You may lose your home, wife, car, airplane, nanny, or mistress. OOH Noooo! Been there and done that. Still on the beach. Clothes clean, hair cut. And the ladies still like me.

The big loss is the fact of my own bewilderment. Everyone is taking it all way too seriously, and usually about matters of little or no importance of issues over which one has little or no control. They are the same thing.

My quandary is that for most of my time in life it seems that someone wants to steal my joy. I know that misery loves a good friend, but what is it about me that drives the unhappy masses insane? Maybe I just attract the wrong people. At my first job, I was hated as a rebel, but was one of the most cited and admired professionals in my organization. Later, in business I made millions making it seem easy. Then I was ridiculed for taking too many vacations. Hell, that is why I started my own company in the first place!

Then when I lost all that because wife one thought she could steal and somehow operate my "easy" business I married a young blond and moved to the desert southwest. Here I started another small business and worked on my hobbies, fishing, shooting, and the art of relaxation.

Being too happy at that, wife two decides too get what she can and seek paradise at my expense after still angry wife one has me handcuffed for failure to keep her in the mansion, which she of course lost and screwed up after she ruined the business that she desired to run so badly. Must be my fault.

Blond wife decides that she has to make me angry so Ill go away so she sleeps around and ruins my truck. Of course I decide to stay in paradise to wait on her return, which never really occurs unless she is homeless and without a boyfriend at the moment, or some other payor.

Sure I should be all twisted up about this. But I am still on vacation as I sit on the beach and watch the ants dart about their serious purposes. Life is great. I sincerely thank all of my friends and lovers who have pointed out how awful my life is and what an evil bum I am and always shall be.

Maybe Ill move to Hawaii when I get bored again.

Next entry, "The Golden Casket Syndrome".

Cloudy second day of Summer

Just a quick note to report a quiet few days of rain. pretty cool for summer, but ah, the maritimes! I am at the library as my wireless at home is down. I had a banking problem that I think I have solved and pretty much just waiting out the last week of June until payday.

the its parts for my old truck and a fishing trip-hopefully some more pix and real writing for here. It has been a prolonged period of writer block and Internet troubles. I hope will soon end.

All quiet here as summer gets into swing and I can finally do some overdue swimming!

Quiet weekend

It has been too long since I made an entry. My Internet connection has not been as easy as in the past. Finally got back out to do a little fishing. Its been mostly small brookies, but I did catch and release a small smolt salmon near Bedeque. My first PEI salmon! The Alaskan Kenai it is not, but there are a lot of fish and fishing spots close by. My truck needs serious work so my travel is limited. Frankly, fishing here is a rather lonely experience without my son.

Mary went with me a few times . We grow closer. She is a fine woman and a real lady and we spend most every weekend together. Weekends with Mary...before it was just "Sundays with Mary". Last week it was even" "Sundaes" with Mary", as we went to the St. Eleanor's dairy bar after supper.

I did get an email from Joe Moltzen. He sent some pictures of he and Kevin Geraci fishing salmon on the Columbia River. They both look prosperous but we are all aging-my high school fishing buddy's. It strikes a bit of a spear in my heart, but I am glad they have done well and missed the trials I brought upon myself.

Frankly, I think again now of going home. It has gotten complicated. I also got a note from my sister. She seemed OK, but complained of some pain. She refuses to see a doctor as she is sure that she will have to pay, but with medicare and medicaid she can get what she needs.

My lost wife did send an email around the 3rd of this month asking for cash. That always breaks me-and in a different reality I would love to help. The coldness there after 18 years of love and friendship is astonishing.