tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15595394816244435362024-02-19T03:16:01.725-08:00Joseph Manduke's JournalsSelections of older diary entries and recent writings......Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-80031964857986742612018-05-14T02:56:00.001-07:002018-05-14T02:56:04.484-07:00River ThoughtsMandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-59574387487644087272016-08-03T22:09:00.001-07:002016-08-03T22:09:50.602-07:00Joseph Manduke Short Stories-River Thoughts..: Joseph Manduke's River Thoughts<a href="http://mandukestories.blogspot.com/2008/05/joseph-mandukes-river-thoughts.html?m=1">Joseph Manduke Short Stories-River Thoughts..: Joseph Manduke's River Thoughts</a>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-45512049662655135372012-02-28T09:55:00.000-08:002012-02-28T09:55:08.651-08:00Favorite videos (playlist)('http://www.youtube.com/p/_jjjqYAzLWPdM8hjye297g?version=3&hl=en_US',)Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-8246997845783594282011-04-17T19:13:00.000-07:002011-04-17T20:10:24.628-07:00Spring trout fishing on PEIThe first day. Always a first day in these important matters of fishing among good friends and with fine waters. Not that this island is the ultimate in a purists adventure into a rushing arctic river. Nor the first place that line was cast as a child with father along the streams of youth...but a new place of great streams and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wonderful</span> new memories that stir the most from a deep almost deserted memory. Opening day of trout here was snowy and cold. As a young man, I only remember one day of fishing the Eastern chars, or brook tout in the high plateaus of the Allegheny that I recall snow falling as we removed the natural artworks called brook trout. These fish are natures jewels. Dark above and dotted with crimson and blue, white edged fins and creamy flanks...golden bellies. These are the trout caught here that have not yet been to sea. They are pure pleasure in the pursuit and eager hungry as the spring thaw awakens and all of us collective awaken to a spring leading to the summer sun. I never really expected that. In the memory of youth it was a time of great awakening and expectation. Rods brought out. Plans made. The early morning trip away to meet the streams and brooks...the air, racing clouds and chilling air ...bird song along places of youthful expectation. The winter is long at this latitude. It is far from the streams of the Arizona rim, later, and in most ways father still from the mountains and cold limestone valleys of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Cumberland</span> gap of my youth. But it is trout fishing the same only <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">modified</span> by the geography and those who cast the line with me here. For those who do not understand that, or those whose memories are yet clouded by the unimportant or memories forgotten I can only say that it is as a wedding should be. The great expectations, hopes, and wishes of a powerful meaningful summer among all that can be profound and important at a time or renewal. The fish are a bit small, but the fill the pan well, dusted in flour and fried golden and a meal that means spring is here. Perhaps I should have fished elsewhere. My father is long a memory. We fished the streams of home and it remains a most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">important</span> place of memory. Here we go out just a few miles from home here along along the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Northumberland</span> strait to fish. Not hours, but minutes to streams that hold many fish. That is why I remained and now that is why I remain. Pain of loss and suffering reduced to total simplicity. We will fish bait now and early here in the West, and as the water warms the flies will take trout...the sea run fish..will return. Larger and silvery from the time away , the meat pink and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">succulent</span> from their salty foraging we will take some for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">BBQ</span> and release the rest. The odd salmon will visit but must be released. There is no finer past-time. Issac Walton observed that the simplicity and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">solitude</span> of the stream and trout was a renewal of the soul. So be it. Time passed rather poorly against an amazing winter. A winter even these hardy souls said that they had not seen in years. Snow and gale. Snow and gale. Day after day along the shore buried in feet and feet of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">unmelting</span> white. But the rain came and we went fishing. I met a lady. A true flower of a woman. Beautiful and fragile to intrude on my solitude. She is remarkable in that she distracts me from the brook. It has not been so for many seasons and I have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">been</span> chided as a romantic. Again. Today was too windy and cold to go back to the Bradshaw and catch more trout. I caught 5 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">brookies</span> Friday, my friends caught a few too. We returned to town and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">immediately</span> cleaned and cooked the fished...still we were chilled to the core but it was the finest trout feast that I had had since long before. It has taken more than one winter for me to be able to grasp a new horizon. And the sun that rose from that horizon is the sun that breaks to pink clouds. The kind of sunrise portending a new adventure among people prior <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">foreign</span>, now friends. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAL2X8Iop427WVqXHF6RZ99fkgI3Ftbg72kcJ7ZT0fmUiAxJDiC37BrIjw9vwSOSw2MmyDJIOHTnsR4FFdbvqYtAiTSk5-_3ZfTU8az5L0_PF2dPQ1F6J9gzYGAa9zzS68JkxF3d2iJOVU/s1600/Rainbow+Trout.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596741299900846322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAL2X8Iop427WVqXHF6RZ99fkgI3Ftbg72kcJ7ZT0fmUiAxJDiC37BrIjw9vwSOSw2MmyDJIOHTnsR4FFdbvqYtAiTSk5-_3ZfTU8az5L0_PF2dPQ1F6J9gzYGAa9zzS68JkxF3d2iJOVU/s400/Rainbow+Trout.bmp" /></a> I changed my field boots and layers to evening wear and went out among those in my hometown. The strong Canadian beer flowed and the dance went along. Separated by only a thread we dance as family and laugh among the last remaining shadowed piles of snow. I remain in my Elba. Surely I miss fishing with my old pals and my son...even my father passed over 40 years ago. But all the souls are present. I remain here to fish, and coordinate that which must be written. All that is ones life is that which is a memory...the material passes away and rots as the last fall leaves are now gone...but the odour remains in the heart of that when one rakes and jumps into the leaf pile with children. It remains but is actually gone back into the damp red island soil.Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-18364682082013034012011-02-20T20:06:00.000-08:002011-02-20T20:28:28.273-08:00Deep Winter<span style="color:#99ff99;">So that deep winter speaks a blow of blast that means snow. Its my own fault as all know that I decided to render on my condition that lacks the real abilities to go...away...far away. Some of the island girls that I really do have a fond attachment thus have inculcated that as once I may have gone a fore <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">then</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">thusly</span> shall I go away.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">They are cute in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">their</span> collective muse as I may stay as long as I please....but I suspect that only an excuse <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">perfused</span> thus that I may unknown and no threat to a simple state of being.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">I at once went to a smelt shack of friends last a week. We trod heavy snow with some glee past along by the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">homebrew</span> beer and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tignish</span> shine. Therein I speared smelt in a small heated shack. The smelt stand close to bait and simply stare, if the fisherman is lucky, then they are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span> ceremoniously harpooned...making a delicious meal, dusted in flour and roasted in the fat <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">du</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">jour</span>.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">On a more personal note.....well it has expanded. Life here is much as 8 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Th</span> grade when I played football... there are cheerleaders, the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">undateable</span>, the dogs, nerds, drunks, whatever. But everyone knows everyone so I remain amazed. Soon It may be time abode away to sun and surf...but not just yet...not yet...and snow...SNOW!...Yes a bit of that too... but a hardy sort we stand such a way that not much encumbers too long....but spring trout at 6 weeks makes me want to wait in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Hibernia</span> amongst my unleavened friends...yes truly mad...but oh so much fun.....</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">Shel would have liked this winter on island with me, as it will most likely be my last...the desert <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">beckons</span>....tanned <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Spanglish</span> speaking ladies await..</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-15273915535361218842010-11-12T01:53:00.000-08:002010-11-12T02:30:56.945-08:00Mid November Chill<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z0ff6JMAyrcn75J72BVKPYUN-gmdF89W5Te8ioJr5Ynl6BiNRfsMzXloq12yIqR4zkXYnssONl4iTp2PqPqaDLQeEMRodPChWBzXbBCIORD8M4PQ8KviOyKtrNqrf7bmqEM0ng34wuZo/s1600/015.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538607852158968690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z0ff6JMAyrcn75J72BVKPYUN-gmdF89W5Te8ioJr5Ynl6BiNRfsMzXloq12yIqR4zkXYnssONl4iTp2PqPqaDLQeEMRodPChWBzXbBCIORD8M4PQ8KviOyKtrNqrf7bmqEM0ng34wuZo/s200/015.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#ffffcc;">The incessant rains of late and high winds have finally departed into a chilly dry mid-November. There is not very much new to report but it has been so long that I thought that a basic update entry would be a good idea. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">With fishing season over and the winter approach as well as work and family issues in my "social club", fall has grown quiet.. Mary has reappeared with renewed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">enthusiasm</span> to spend time with me, much to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">chagrin</span> of many of my club. I have missed Mary's maturity and good sense, but not the acerbity and hard-nosed islander behaviour that was seen before. i am just going to enjoy our friendship, as I miss our movie dates and restaurant explorations.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Still always brewing as roasting chicory on my cerebrum at this time of year are thoughts of the south, kids, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Yankee</span>-land. American Thanksgiving is November 25<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> this year, my birthday. What fine memories that imagined within the memory of a wonderful <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-life . But I will r<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">emain</span> and just wait as it causes no real difficulty yet to do so. The kids are both very busy and my proximity, as previously tested, added little to the actual amount of time we were together last trip home. Perhaps a trip home to visit when logical, anyway.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">We keep abreast via telephone and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">face book</span> as best as is possible. I hear little from old friends these days via any medium anyway. In any case, there are worse things than being an "islander'.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">I often think of my elusive X wife and wonder if and when she will return here to be with her theoretical <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">husband</span>. It must be very hard for her to be with her clan all this time, if indeed that is where she is, especially after the life that she had over the last 17 years. As a writer it is an interesting study in human disillusionment. I wish her or them well as the case may be.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">So its an expansion on hobbies old and new, exercise now that I am finally up to it and the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">re embrace</span> of a more healthy fresher diet and avoidance of negative and depressed dypsomanical club members hell-bent on moral <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">turpitude</span> and hepatic cellular death.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Yes, I will have to try some smelt fishing when the ice comes to the harbour. Yes, indeed!</span></div>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-89228464563279086572010-10-03T13:06:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.269-07:00October<span style="color:#33ffff;">This time of year is very special to me here on the island. Sometimes we would <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fore go</span> a summer trip to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">maritimes</span> and wait for fall. In those years, we would usually stay at Indian Brook on Bras <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">D'or</span> on Cape Breton Island. Then, often <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">reluctantly</span>, we would spend some time here on this island.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">The wonderful colours of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Cabot</span> Trail, the warm people...the crisp air and maybe some fresh <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mackerel</span> and blueberries made for a wonderful time before the the trip back to the desert. Then, I would bake or fry fish, make blueberry pie and enjoy our rented house along the shores of Bras <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">D'or</span>. Here we usually stayed at Cavendish near the park in a little old-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fashioned</span> motel cabins called the White Eagle, in the National park here.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Summerside</span> then was a side trip then. Now it is my home. I am fully integrated here now with new friends and interests, but at time I am still introduced as "my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Yankee</span> friend".</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Fishing has been less productive than in August, but i have gone to the wharf less these past few weeks. The weather has been unusually mild, but the chill approaches now as the tropical lows go past and the arctic highs arrive. The leaves are colouring and the birds seem anxious to depart for warmer climes as the sun goes lower and lower, and spirits wain for the approach of winter.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">There has been little word from my remaining family <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">except</span> for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">occasional</span> "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebooking</span>". It seems letters and phone calls are out of date, and that is where people socialize and chat now. I danced with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Mary</span> last night and we were to go to supper tonight..Chinese is the tradition...but there has been no word so I assume the date is off. Today marks our two year anniversary as a defunct couple. It is too bad too, as I was looking forward to it.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">I almost just left yesterday. No place in mind, I just thought I would head East and stay in a hotel, maybe all the way to Cape Breton and eat blueberries and mackerel. But I decided against it and I am not sure why. Having the ability to go anywhere one wants is not always a reason to do it. Go to the airport and fly to the snowy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Rockies</span>, or just drive. A decision unmade again as it has been for me this time of year here.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Thus, I await an inspiration, a reason..<em><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">raison</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">d'etra</span>".</em> But fishing and a new month and week appear and I remain. placed in time along the beaches of memory, a place that love seems beyond the reaches.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-84177390377391528442010-09-14T21:14:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.276-07:00Mid September..already<span style="color:#ff9966;">The whole world changed here as hurricane Earl past a few weeks ago. I mean that the air changed into a cool damp maritime fall. This is off a truly balmy summer of sunny beach days and cheeks of tan. Now the clouds are different. The towering cumulus coming across the straight from the mainland with distant long streamers of moisture to the sea, as a dimming near <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">solstice</span> sun wanes.<br /><br />So spirits wane also. The smiles are smaller now among the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">indigenous</span> and the off-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">landers</span> are gone back to work and school and South to what they all may think is a type of predictable life. Art <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Linkletter</span> said "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans". A good quote.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">The routine here of weekends dancing with Mary are now <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">dissonant</span>. The fact that we are now longer together is oft talked about at the coffee shops and at the dances. This could last years in such a small place, and perhaps I love it as its smallness removes me from the real terror or at least controlled fear of having to be somewhere else.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">Of course Arizona comes to mind as winter looms. The base in Yuma, my home in Glendale ...the palms, grill, the soft sound of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Spanish</span> from dusky girls and the smell of roasting <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">anchos</span> at our grocery. shooting big and small guns on and off the range. Traffic in Phoenix, and hundreds of miles of open low desert on treks between Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Yuma. The inspection flights into smoggy L.A. to shake up the reservists with unit inspections.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">But I have mused on these before. The smell of rain on a hot desert, the wet ironwood and mesquite drenched in the monsoon thunderstorms. A need for a real tamale. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">I enjoy the respite of fishing mackerel at our wharf. We are a colourful bunch. One Korean gentleman is there almost all the time that the gates are open. I know if he is gone, no mackerel schools are in. For a trout fisherman who grew up with small streams, seeing mackerel school and rush past the wharf edge in a feeding frenzy, chasing the prey <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bait fish</span>, or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">capelin</span>, it is worth considering.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">It is not the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kenai</span> river nor King Salmon fresh from the arctic into a raging Alaskan river, nor is it trolling for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wahoo</span> off Maui...but at least the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wahoo</span> are relatives of my little mackerel that provide a distraction as I await a call to do something else. The brook trout here are relatives of my salmon friends too so its all in the family.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">In many aspects I feel a sense of freedom that I have not felt since my teenage years. Perhaps that is what retirement should be. I see so many chasing shadows of unimportance that I oft feel fortunate. Then I thought who am I to decide what is worthwhile to pursue. A friend yesterday, on a trip to Charlottetown, explained to me (or asked) "Aren't goals important"?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">Yes they are if they are not cast in stone. I assure you that overall any plans made will probably turn out differently that expected. Not always bad, just different.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">I said once in a journal in 1979 that " I want to go through smoothly, easily, and not like a heavy iron chain drawn over rocky ground."</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">This I have not achieved. The chain has been dragged, often unwillingly, over harsh terrain. But the effort in pulling it, the callouses, the pains define this place. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">So there we have it as the second part of September starts and summer is already past. Change is the only reality that is constant. Here, as elsewhere, people fight change and pretend time is static. The illusion of perception becomes real and few strive for a distant sunrise. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;">Perhaps it is fear of life, or just fear of fear. A life with fear is no life at all.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9966;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-78249825277816456772010-09-08T02:24:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.282-07:00Fall<span style="color:#ccccff;">The amazing and idyllic summer ends as hurricane Earl washes away the hot dry summer this past weekend. The air has become markedly cooler and drier and the students are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">returning</span> to school, the tourists from "away", returning home. I remain.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Fishing for mackerel from the city wharf has been the best it has been for years, allowing me to fill a few buckets with the tough-fighting fish-freezing many, eating fresh fillets, and giving many away to friends at the two social clubs that I am a member of here.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Many new friends have appeared in my path as my relationship with my island Mary ended a few weeks ago in a final date that was a painful and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassing</span> experience. We went to the last <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">barbecue</span> of the season at the yacht club. The meal was excellent and reasonable. But I finally lost patience with all the pettiness and jealousy, saying my good-byes without as much <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">elegance</span> that I had planned. In such a small town as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Summerside</span>, everyone knows the story. There are pros and cons, everyone has an opinion. Mary and I will see each other at the dances, but our emotional weekend <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">liaisons</span> have ended.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Many of my new friends are associated with fishing here in town, or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">friends</span> of friends from the house parties of the summer. Most are younger. I find solace in that as I am more comfortable around a younger crowd. This is probably due to my days teaching and of course, all the years with my now <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">disappeared</span> former young wife.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Finally I feel normal physically and mentally. The heartache retreating and energies advancing after a period of the post-relationship blues and the obscure illness that nearly killed me in February.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">I have finally purchased long-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">needed</span> items such as a new television, radio equipment, and fishing tackle.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">There has been much effort in the restoration of my truck, the last remaining <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">vestige</span> of a prior life and a distant universe. At this time, I expect to remain here for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">foreseeable</span> future as there is really no other place that I would rather be. The children are very busy as the school year begins and they both continue to work. It seems to me that neither of them had anything like a real summer vacation, at least as I knew them as a teenager. It saddens me, but we all stay in touch usually via <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span>, which dominates social communication in the new age. Letters are gone and telephone calls are becoming rare and short as real human contact gives way to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">omg</span> of our <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">internet</span> age. I am glad that I also "grew-up" in that world, comfortable with electronics as is the gift of my radio hobby and business computer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">experience</span> over the last 30 years.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">My trusty old digital camera died as it got wet on one of my innumerable treks to the beach. I purchased a new camera which is pretty amazing. Its functions are, it seems, a kin to flying the space shuttle.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">The beach, new friends, new toys has made this the most fantastic summer in many years. Not that the pangs of heartache don't surface from time to time...they do. Hopefully I can venture off island before the snow flies-perhaps a fishing trip to Cape Breton of the Eastern shore of Nova <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scotia</span>. Maybe a return to Salmon Lake lodge will seal the breach and provide solid conclusion to my married years and allow me to finally complete the biography.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">The sun is brightly illuminating the Indian Head lighthouse on the point as it rises behind me here. The view from my seaside home. The harbour looks tranquil this morning. Pink mist awakening in the dawn, foggy clouds struggling lift away and the patches of blue sky revealed. Soon it will be time to go fishing, move on into the weekend of parties, dances, and cooler, wetter weather.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">Thus is my life on this day in September, 2010.</span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-67800404757828912632010-08-10T16:48:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.289-07:00August 11 2010<span style="color:#9999ff;">Yes today is actually the 10<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Th</span>. Tomorrow is a day of many birthdays. My daughter turns 18, my grandfather (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Manduka</span>) would be 109, my mom would be 91. i am not sure how common it is to have so many with the same birthday that are immediate family.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">It was sultry here today, very <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Northeastern</span> summer day with much heat sun and humidity after the rains. The evening now is cooler and dry-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">fallish</span>. I walked over to the little park near my old home to visit my wishing pond. They have planted water <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lilies</span>. no life that I could discern other than the putting about of the "water-boatmen". They are small insects that live in ponds. I remember as a child on the farm being fascinated by them, as only a 8 year old can be, in my pond that i have written so much about. As an old family tradition demands, I tossed a coin and made prayers for all those in my life I love or miss or both.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">I rode shotgun today up west to Carl Campbell's salvage yard to assist my fishing buddy Glen Currie pick up his Toyota <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">tercel</span>. Carl put a rebuilt engine in it and it runs well. It was the same car that Shel had-perhaps Carl rebuilt her engine and put it in Glen's rig. I am still not sure why she never got it fixed, as it was a nice little car.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">I spoke to my children today. Rhonda is taking them out tonight for a dinner in celebration of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Alexis's</span> birthday tomorrow. Alexis has to work and has no party planned. I was sad that I could not be there as 18 is an important day for anyone. Times slips away with amazing speed.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">Joey even said that he may get a passport and take the 18 hour trip from Harrisburg up here. We will see. I remain rather entrenched here for the time being.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">I am off to Carl's tomorrow for tires and a heater blower, and maybe a few other adjustments. they have taken great care of the old truck, but as winter looms there will be more to do.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">today i was missing my Mary a bit. We shared the love of live music and movies, and good food. But the vast differences between us and the effects of her horrific childhood and relationships even I can not overcome. But I miss our romance. We had one last encounter last week at the wing. We kissed and talked in the Wing parking lot after the music. But I did not get the apology for her insults about my fishing pals that I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">needed</span> to hear. So that at least for now, is that.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">This is such a small town that there are absolutely no secrets. None. I have survived here by being affable and as generous as possible and that seems to work. My new social <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">circle</span> is both younger and more active. It includes males and females, which Mary would have not allowed. But i still miss the intimacy, as I have really been married or involved one way or another my entire adult life. So this is really new ground. For better or worse.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">Hopefully I can make some beach time and get some fishing in this week. Summer is running down, trout wane and the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mackerel</span> arrive now.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">It has been years since I had an amateur radio station. I am back on the air now and have simple chats with other hobbyists all over from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">South</span> America to Russia, and California and Florida. Its a welcome distraction rooted in my childhood on the farm where I built my first transmitter from a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Heathkit</span> and strung my first home made wire antenna.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">So that is August on the island for me. Live in the moment.</span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-4276470588210814552010-08-05T09:45:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.296-07:00August on the Island<span style="color:#99ff99;">July was a truly wonderful month. It was the best summer month that I have experienced in many years. The dimming of unpleasant partings and sad memories yielded to fishing, camping, and all kinds of pool parties, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">barbeque's</span> and new friends. Released from various restrictive relationships-of all kinds, I am finally able to enjoy my toys, truck, friends and fishing gear.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">We caught plenty of trout this summer. Both the standard Brook Trout of my youth and its sweet white flesh, roasted on a fire, and the sea-run version of the same critter, whose flesh is firm pink and succulent.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">The camping at mill river park "up West" is of note. My friend Dave and fished and camped in hard rain, by a roaring fire that was aided by my supply of military fire-starting pellets. We even played a round of golf. After my initial failure at the frustrating game, I really enjoyed it. </span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">camping in my old yellow tent with the ancient blazer along side was a sure <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">source</span> of nostalgia. Yes I dwell too much upon that, but I bought that tent in Alaska 28 years ago. The truck is only slightly newer, still running almost as good as it did <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">as I</span> drove it off the lot in Maryland that summer 20 years ago.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">I do miss my children It is wonderful that we have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> and other computer <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">resources</span> to keep in touch. Perhaps someday they will visit me on this island. Someday, when they are free of what constrains them.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">Finally I have another amateur radio station. It is still under construction here, but will provide diversion when fishing wains and the weather turns, which will happen very soon at this latitude.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">The mackerel are showing up at the wharf downtown. I sure enjoy catching them as they come insure to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">attack</span> schools of small <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bait fish</span>, called <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">capelin</span>. Many here don't like to eat them, as they are rather oily and heavy fish. But I enjoy a good "feed" of island mackerel. Here they are boiled, fried, or baked. I am quite along when I cut a fresh chunk off an almost live fish and enjoy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">saba</span>, or the Japanese sushi word for raw mackerel. Then I miss Shel, as she loved sushi. Far from the meat and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">potatoes</span> of Colorado, I introduced her to Japanese food at the Fish Market restaurant in Phoenix. She became an avid devotee.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">The weather will turn cooler in a few weeks. The fall will come swiftly, suddenly with a first snow flake on or about November 1. It was then that I usually left the island to struggle back "home". As to where to go this winter, I am just not sure now. Nothing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">compels</span> yet to leave. That day will come-but I am surely in no hurry. Yes, a very difficult place to leave.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-30632008027447660622010-07-21T18:19:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.302-07:00<span style="color:#ffffcc;">What a wonderful day to spend a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Linkletter</span> Park, right down the road from my home here on Prince Edward Island. In the summer heat, it is wonderful to watch in real time the thunderstorms boil up high in towering cumulus clouds, drift across the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">strait</span>-and die. I could lose the hungry deer flies. They are helping me with my manual dexterity.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Mostly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tourists</span> dropping by in rented cars, local kids, and kids with kids on the narrow beach there. The tide was low, with piles of eel grass and stranded unfortunate jelly-fish, locally called "bloodsuckers" for no reason, drying glassy in the sun.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">The birds seem happy. A song sparrow kept visiting me and proclaiming on the sole <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">light post</span> near the shore.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Here I cleaned the "cottage" and await the big rains forecast for tomorrow. Time for haircut and laundry...a non-beach day.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Paradise lost...found..lost again..found again...what a fantastic experience. </span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-28489191579934230842010-07-19T17:51:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.309-07:00Rainy night after glorious days<span style="color:#3366ff;">Cool rain now falls and the splatters make music along my leaky gutters. It has been a great stretch of days that I have spent with friends at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Chelton</span> beach. The place is one of <em>those places</em>.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">There I cooked <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hot dogs</span> and hamburgers, fries and sold ice cream at the little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">canteen</span> there. That was the summer that Shel worked there and I went with her there to help out and enjoy the beach. That was the summer of 2007. In those days, Shel and I still lived together off and on between her various "relationships", always some kind of despiration, a feeling that I have never known. I didn't mind so much, as we were getting along as well as could be expected and I knew one way or the other our time together was concluding. I still enjoyed immensely, even the fights. She became my oldest daughter at the end.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">She had to find an islander to eventually marry to stay here, as she knew my financial support had to end. I got her here, that was good enough. I transported her so she could date, which almost destroyed my poor truck. Funding ended, wife GONE.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">Her pal Elwood who works at the park recognized me right away. He had helped Shel get her little car, and he asked about her. I told him that we were finally divorced in January this year, and that she had gone home to Colorado and family. He is a very nice, awfully poor man with an ill wife. </span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">So now days pass without a concern that Mary will be calling, or wondering where I am. In a final conflict, she left in a huff Friday night mad that I had met my fishing buddies for a beer without telling her. Everyone says that I am better off, but after 2 years I do miss her many positive attributes. I am also very glad to lose the bad ones. The gulf of backgrounds was just too wide and we had been pushing it for months-but I will miss my Mary. Very much.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">Perhaps some fishing this week and more swimming in the very warm sea. Its been an amazing July thus far. Summer is so short here each warm sunny day is a treasure. A far cry from Phoenix, where cloudless skies may persist for months.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">I ordered a bunch of amateur radio equipment to replace the station that I sold here long ago to help Shel with her Colorado trip. It may help the long nights pass, talking to people around the word on shortwave.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">My social circle evolves and most here have forgotten that I am not an islander. My children are very busy, so I may as well stay until I must leave, for whatever reason.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">My little place here is humble, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">convenient</span>. I watch the property and show the vacant units as a favour to the landlord. Its his first property and he is a nice, hard working young man. His father saved my life in February, finding me very ill and non-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">responsive</span> in my old apartment.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">This is a very intimate place. A very small town with all the good and bad that that means. For now its home.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">For today.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-20642332258087115322010-07-13T19:54:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.315-07:00July 13 2010<span style="color:#99ff99;">Well I heard from a very dear old friend today. She isn't very happy with me and perhaps deservedly so. I hope that we can reconnect without hostility. In <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">any</span> case I went up west today and went fishing near <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">O'Leary</span>. Then off to the West Cape beach and lighthouse. I took a great swim in the warm salt water and missed my old friend.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">There was a young man selling fish on the road in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">O'Leary</span>. I bought scallops and some flounder that I just ate. Excellent.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">The Lobster <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Carnival</span> is in full tilt right by my humble abode. I walked over and took some pictures that I put on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">face book</span>. A warm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">breezy</span> lovely evening.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">But my heart is empty. I do miss all of the travels and wealth of earlier years. And my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">exquisite</span> young wife. In any case, I can think of no place better to spent a summer.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">I have extreme faith as my mother said..."Walk as if you are hand in hand with God, and all things within you shall arrange to be well".</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">I sure miss her, and my sister.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-26689753474644324912010-07-11T20:19:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.322-07:00A Wonderful Sunday Evening<span style="color:#ffff66;">Well I always write about the fishing or the beach. If I get much more tan I will probably get deported.What a great weekend. There was beach, dance, and some decent foods to enjoy. I must admit that I am very moved by the visit at my humble dump by a new friend. We had planned to watch movies. This amazing person was walking down Greenwood Drive to see me in the pouring rain. I decided that it was unacceptable and I found my friend in my old truck , in rain-gear walking to me. I brought her here.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">We came back here to my place to watch the movies that my friend selected. Of course, my junk TV died during this....not being too <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassed</span>, we went out to buy a new TV.Well its Sunday and everything was closed.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">We came back after the rain,,and talked. And talked. My friend can talk. I love it..I miss that.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">But we played with the computer and talked about family faith and our mutual losses. We shared pictures and some painful memories.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">It was a wonderful time time. But we live in a place that we have to be very cautious, as people talk here.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">With a better TV I hope we can have another movie night. And frankly, I don't care what people say about it.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-78521182029578265742010-07-04T19:26:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.329-07:00On into summer on the beach<span style="color:#ffffff;">July comes to the island with warm breezes and the warming waters of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Northumberland</span> Strait. It was nice to take a swim in the salt today. The fourth of July, uncelebrated here, on my mind. We had Canada Day here on the first, with fireworks and parties abounding. A few friends came over and we ate chicken and watched the fireworks. That was a first for me as I come out of the solitude and the angst of dealing with the loss of my sister and wife only a short time ago.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">Mary and I went to supper at Gentleman Jim-I was in a steak mood. I took her to our beach here by my place and then to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Linkletter</span> Park. It was warm and beautiful as I parked the old truck right on the shore and kissed her. Sundays with Mary.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">I did talk to my daughter a while on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">face book</span>. She is smart, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">strong</span> and almost too beautiful. My son is working almost constantly and involved with his friends and his music so I hear from him less. I miss him a lot, but I now know how my mother must have felt as I went off into life and had less and less contact. I sure miss my parents and unexpectedly , my sister. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">So here i am along Green's Shore waiting to see what happens. Something will..it always does.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> is keeping me in touch with friends long absent. i enjoy that medium...the only real way I seem to be able to talk to my children.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">Mary was warm, affectionate, and wonderful to be with this weekend. Time moves forward and I think I shall remain here at least for now. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">After all</span>, I am getting a great tan, the old truck still runs as new, and it is home. Where I hang my hat.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-80186768682691046132010-06-27T16:58:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.336-07:00Fishing as June ends<span style="color:#99ffff;">Yes now it almost Canada Day which is July 1. It is a Canadian version of the US 4<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Th</span> of July. There will be fireworks and a big party down at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bay walk</span> (boardwalk) and beach 1 block from where I pen this. Perhaps this year it will be a bit warmer and there will be less <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mosquito's</span>.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">I went fishing with my friend Dave Elliot on Saturday (yesterday). First I managed to get lost trying to take the back roads to Coleman, about 30 miles West of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Summerside</span>. I had an appointment to meet and look at a small house there which I thought would make a nice fishing camp.It was pretty rough. My pal Dave is a master <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">builder</span> and carpenter and thought it was not a good idea, so we went to the legion in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">O'Leary</span>. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">O'Leary</span> is a nearly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">dead</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">potato</span> producing and processing town there that used to be a busy place. Both <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Dave</span> and my friend Glen grew up there.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">It is quaint as towns on the West Virginia panhandle. There is even a old store, closed, that has the old merchandise still in the window. A quaint old building with apartments above. Mary was quite upset that I would make such bold <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">decisions</span> without her approval, and we have been distant since Saturday night. She has not returned my phone calls and she went to the club last night and I stayed at the wing. It may be simple miscommunication or as Dave says, I am just a "bugger". The punishments aside, it was a great sunny weekend with big tides and a full moon. The fish seem to respond to that. I caught 4 nice trout near Coleman and just ate them with coleslaw and potato salad. Fishing and cooking these wild brook trout, I miss my son and the mountains streams of Pennsylvania (and Arizona) catching and cooking these amazing natural jewels.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">Sundays always bring some sadness to me. Things close early and alone I am left to recollect, write here, and consider a future where it may be.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">Its hard to beat a place to live on a great beach, wild trout, and eager young ladies. But I miss my older girl and during my revelries and travels, I miss Shel. Mostly I miss my kids. I speak to my daughter almost daily. She is directed and well balanced. Joey is very busy and lives a hectic life of some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">trepidation</span> like his mother. I think they will both be well.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">I am not so sure about me. But a summer of sun burn and fishing looms ahead. Just about 2 months before the weather turns back to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-autumn chill and rains leading to a sub-arctic winter that has to be felt to really know. As always to stay or go. At least for now I shall remain.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">After all</span> over staying a welcome is my speciality, and I now have a real social circle, flawed, but real acceptance among my little towns community.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ffff;">It cannot continue forever and i am awful at endings. But sun and trout....I have seen much worse.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-53990726356785150742010-06-22T00:52:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.342-07:00Joe Manduke Images<a style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1em; FLOAT: right; MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; CLEAR: right" href="http://picasaweb.google.com/joemanduke/JoeMandukeImages?feat=blogger" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_zNll-0z0tjM/SPTGMLVlR7E/AAAAAAAACDA/LPWERxDuNhU/s160-c/JoeMandukeImages.jpg" /></a>ImagesMandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-62035100659060299092010-06-21T19:08:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.349-07:00First Day of Summer in a Prescribed Paradise<span style="color:#33ffff;">So summer arrived at 8 something here on the coast of North America <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">that's</span> sees it first. So be it. My evening was listening to blue grass music as its <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">called</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">here</span> at our legion. I feel there among the seniors (I am close to the youngest participant) that I am among my Hatfield family, long lost, along some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">holla</span></span> on the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy in West <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Virginia</span>. Know that I only visited Williamson once, to visit the family cemetery. There <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Anse</span></span> Hatfield, a hero of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Confederacy</span> stands tall in marble along Mate Creek. Yes, M<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">atewan</span></span> fame. He was either my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">GGGrandad</span></span> or Uncle depending on who slept with whom. In any case I was born <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">dead</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">eyed</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">shooting</span> a revolver, so maybe there is something to the DNA thing.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">My mom, Aunt and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">grand mom</span> only talked in their hidden language among us....they would use certain letters to create whole words, for example "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fuff</span> A Cause <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">EE</span></span>". Which meant face "face". Later I learned that during the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">feud</span> they had to be careful about what they said. I think that secret way of talk among the Hatfield clan has never been said before...but I won't say it all...</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Here the spring peepers of my youth on the streams are still singing. At this latitude it has just broken dark and its almost 10PM.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">The trout fishing here on the island is pretty good. There are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">decent</span> sea-run brook trout of the same type I caught with my father and son in the streams of Pennsylvania. When they go into the sea hey grow fatter and take on a silver tone. The little bright dots of blue-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">ringed</span> red gone and bellies fat from a time in the salt. They are profound.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Here, I am completely "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">islandized</span></span>". I am a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">member</span> of the social clubs and accepted by nearly all the folks that considered me an off-lander and even a "Yankee". Its a gentle strain of people who crave the world across the ferry or the bridge but just can't go. Many have left for work in the Alberta tar sands or even the states. Those that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">remain</span> lust for the annual Florida or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Las</span></span> Vegas vacation. My former and lovely young wife has either been deported for working without a visa or simply disappeared.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">A fishing friend or mine, who has shown me great great trout streams (Up West-meaning anywhere West of our little town) works at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">potato</span> plant. He tells me that his job is to use water jets and flumes to get the crop into the hoppers. He works second shift sorting potatoes in a stark warehouse here. His name is Glen. His life is also an abject <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">tradgedy</span> but he is one of the few lucky enough to have a job, and looks forward to our fishing trips to his home town up West near <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">O'Leary</span></span>. There are some serious sea-trout to be caught.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">My relationship with my island girl continues. She is stoic from a truly horrible childhood of parental loss, no running water, and struggling here in the 1950's. I am talking incest, physical attack, and rural horror.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Such a run from my personal background. When we go out she makes her face and hair flawless, trying to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">achieve</span> a recognition for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">beauty</span> that she has never known. She is Mary, the lady I see here. She is as far from Shel or a desert sunrise as a human could be, but she is my Mary.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Here as a retiree the days come and go. The tourists are starting to arrive and the hopeless little shops are opening. A place of real beauty-but one has to stay here to find it. Cape Breton is more rugged and prettier. Nova <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scotia</span></span> has Halifax and the great Eastern shore and the Annapolis Valley. New Brunswick, our "drive through province" has the Bay of Fundy and the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Miramachi</span>. And don't consider the awful "Magnetic Hill".</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">I have few complaints but I do miss my family and my desert-oddly enough. But the sun shines and my skin tans under a maritime sun by my abode alone along the beach.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Its what I wanted. No real financial worries, no relationship issues and a place to fish...a truck that will take me anywhere. I can see the point lighthouse from my home.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Still...I feel a missing..a longing..is this it?</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">My mom used to ask me during my business and consulting days-"What am I running from".</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">Maybe I can get out of block and finally write the story. Now that most of the pain is settling, and I actually have something to say.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">OK-Maybe not totally "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">islandized</span>". My gorgeous French-speaking dental hygienist said to me at the end of picking my teeth last week..."Your from the states!" Accent. I am working on it. Its easier to learn Canadian inflection than Russian when I went there so long ago on a UN mission.</span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ffff;">She also said that she has rarely seen anyone my age here that HAD all of his original teeth...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>, I have one gold crown.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-76883105901687165952010-06-14T19:57:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.356-07:00Old Stew and CatsSo we move into a modest rainy summer on my island. Yes old stew. I just had a hankering (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">spelling</span>) for the stew my mom made. I found an old soup bone, ripe with good island beef at our co-op. Yes, a turnip, island <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">potato</span> and whatever else I had in my larder. But its not MOMS stew-close, as she said when I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">was</span> but a boy put the tomatoes in last-and her little basket of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Herb's</span> that I have so much trouble duplicating here.<br /><br />It reminds me so much of her teachings about cooking and using fresh herbs in the pot. Also of Arizona, among the garden that was just beyond my home. All the fine food that I made with long lost wife.<br /><br />Cats came tonight...my neighbour <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Betty</span> in a panic. The local tabby had kittens in the pouring cold rain by my humble abode, outside by a pile of sticks. She had been in here, looking, gravid, but I turned he away. Well my neighbour Betty found the kittens and the are safe and warm, nursing in my humble place by the ocean. Tonight.<br /><br />So the mom kitty and hers stay with me tonight.Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-36071266495691263562010-06-08T18:10:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.363-07:00A chance meeting<span style="color:#99ff99;">That afternoon I had just left my office in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Norristown</span></span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Pennsylvania</span>. It was the fall of 1984. My pal and I always went to work out at the nautilus club on route 202 near the office. Then we would roll up old US route 202 to a place called <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Alphafa's</span></span>. There would we have a beer maybe some snacks and my forever <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">girlless</span></span> friend Phil wait hopefully to meet the woman he wanted to meet. </span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">There was a tall lady, dressed well sitting at the end of the bar. She was a bit loud but had a nice <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">curly</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">doo</span></span> and was very friendly. As my friend <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">shunk</span></span> into his his seat (as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">usual</span>) I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">asked</span> the lady what she she did as we did back in the 80's. She said said that she was a computer type who worked at a bank. After a time she said she was waiting for a girlfriend, who was a veterinarian.After a time she</span><span style="color:#99ff99;"> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">offered</span> to buy us a a snack. I was well moneyed and a bit amused, but we accepted. </span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">At that time I had just broken up with my high school girl Carol, and was looking for a business oriented <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">attractive</span> girl to carry on with my dreams of HTS, my own environmental consulting practice.</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">Well the evening was over and I followed her out of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">restaurant</span>. she resisted, so I opened the door of her Audi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">turbo</span> and offered my phone number. It was NO no no</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">But a week later I got a call and we went on a date to see the movie <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Ghost busters</span>..she laughed so hard that the whole <span style="color:#ffff00;">movie crowd</span> was laughing at her not the movie</span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;">We were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">married</span> a year later...there <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">would</span> be no Joey or Alexis...Shelly would not have her new <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">marriage</span> to ...something to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">consider Paul</span> Perry, and I would not not be waiting on Prince Edward Island without that chance meeting so long ago....the moral being that chance meetings may not be anything but fate</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-6979850550416725802010-06-02T20:12:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.369-07:00<span style="color:#000099;">So comes on the spring. Much time has passed since the entry of the blue moon. The kids seem fine and I slowly recover from my ordeal of hospitals and health. In no way will I recount the experience of near death and all the usual BS that goes along with that.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">The good news is I am breathing and I have been fishing. Fishing for fine fresh trout in the nearby streams. It loses something without my son and other disconnections but it is still beautiful and life-giving. (perhaps not for the fish)</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">The full moon of late May has waned to gibbous as June arrives mostly with a chilly rain. My habitation is not the charming place I was in up until this past winter, but it is warm and close to the beach.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">I continue to miss family, both genetic and legally bound prior. My mission now is wholeness, a completion of the short story compendium and my own sanity.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">It has been said by a famous person that the madness is only <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">temporary</span>-we shall see or sea.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Will I stay in this place of beaches of migrate to past fondness remains to be seen.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">But after 6 months I have finally made a journal entry. There shall be more.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-16408379050882990832009-12-23T10:25:00.000-08:002010-10-08T10:53:39.376-07:00"Short Note" on the Blue Moon<span style="color:#3366ff;">Its "Twice in a Blue Moon" for me. The winter <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">solstice</span> coming on Prince Edward Island with a warm snow-killing white Christmas destroying rain. Here for me among the decorated cottages and Victorian homes I walk in the evening to observe the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">frozen</span> pond at our memorial park. Often a coin is tossed with a hope for all as always for an abundance.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">This blue moon, or the second full moon within the same calendar month comes appropriately on December 31. The last such moon was on May 29, 2007. That twas the night before I was to travel to New Hampshire and pick Shel up at the airport after her last trip home, to Colorado. I am mired in the bizarre and ironic. This Christmas season marks the first time we are truly out of touch in nearly 18 years. </span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">The end of this year marks many conclusions in my life and the life of our family. Romantically, a once very pleasant long-term relationship formally ends and a more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">stressful</span> and more recent dalliance concludes simply and with a hint of relief. The death of my sister in October ends the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">existence</span> of my immediate family on this earth save one (me). Both of my adult <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">children</span> are on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">their</span> way into life in various states of confusion or over-confidence so much like teenagers.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">So Christmas alone here on this island selected as my refuge seems just fine. Much better than the uproarious time two years ago here when emotions were so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">high</span> as marriage writhed in its last ugly death throws. Nor as last year when I sat with my sister, ailing in her silent suffering, over a meager and reluctant Christmas meal during my now rare winter off-island. As for so many, this time of year for my family has been difficult. In our case, now only MY case, since the 1970's. I have written so much on that that it is time to move on.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">It is also time now write the conclusion. Not this journalistic read here that is completed only out of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">reverence</span> for 30 years of diaries penned by me, now lost. But to actually do "something". The novel or collection of short stories to be.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">As a dear old friend has advised me many times, "You can do anything you want-create businesses, speak, teach, why are you just waiting?". Well for us the emotions run deep as does the brilliance. My sister was absolutely brilliant but in the actual world would have been and was considered a "loser". I wasn't. I created millions and just walked away from it. Now thats a tale someone might read. And I have learned the most from my friends turned enemies.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">The experience of that loss has honed my instincts on human nature to a very sharp edge. For the most part its pretty ugly. The beauty of nature and a fine trout stream sustained me while I have endured my vacation here. It is the, the rare kind deed that is truly unselfish I search for.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">The rarest concept to consider or act upon for today, at the time of this Christmas for all of us should be an act made or observed of true forgiveness. It is a very rare thing, this "forgiveness" and nary seen in fact by action other than meaningless words. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Forgiveness</span> is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">tangible</span> act of the spirit uniquely human. I seek a spirit that can really take that leap of faith. Another rarity is the ability to go through life without fear. This is a true Christian value. These are as rare as a blue moon, or rarer. <em><strong>Forgiveness within a life without fear.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">Go on without fear. Ask yourself this year what are you afraid of-nothing? Losing your money, your lover,wife, family, gold, looks, car, house, food....the list is long and usually obvious. What about losing your soul? What is of value to you. Do you I have one?</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">Trust me on this matter I speak from experience. To fully push the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">envelope</span> to prove a point may be madness, and perhaps I am guilty. As a writer I can only tell of what I have lived and what I have experienced, so perhaps its been worth it.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">The New Year's of the Blue Moon should help you stop and pause-look up at the sky and figure out your real place in the universe. So few even look at the sky. Stop and observe it. If life still makes little or no sense walk away from all that makes you comfortable and try a new world and a new life. Experience that and grow as a viable spirit verses an automaton on a fake <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">material</span> world and a black and white life.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">It has been said that a life lived in fear is half a life. I disagree. It is no life at all. Remember the mandala and its significance.</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">Merry Christmas and Happy New Year-Go live it in honesty without fear, with charity, forgiveness and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">appreciation</span>. For me that means going fishing with my son, maybe a trip home to Arizona and whatever is in my path that needs doing. What does it mean to you?</span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"></span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-7442309209940835222009-11-18T08:05:00.000-08:002010-10-08T10:53:39.383-07:00Mid-November<span style="color:#009900;">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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aprille's</span> things to the attorney, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Joie</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rehcamp</span>. 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 <em>wrong</em>.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">The realtor that I have hired sent some pictures of the little house. It looks ransacked. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Aprille</span> kept it so neat. Her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">TVs</span> and most other electronics are missing. The new futon that she loved has <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">disappeared</span>. I think the cousins must have thought that I had not been there nor knew what was in the house. I gave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Bettejean</span>, the daughter of my mothers oldest brother, the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">refrigerator</span> for a church donation. Perhaps that meant "help yourself".</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">I do not really care. But it is very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">disrespectful</span> 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.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">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 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">the years</span> and of flea-markets. There the last remaining worthless but sentimental treasures of a past life fade away to the dump or someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">else's</span> nick-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">knack</span> shelf.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">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 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">grandmother</span> , Mary Riley. I suspect that these won't be preserved as I am stuck here and have no truly reliable caretaker.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Cold and harsh is the modern world. I suspect at the conclusion of all this I may be able to return to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">States</span> for a time. The where and why and when has yet to be determined.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">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.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">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.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">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.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">A legacy of visions.</span>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1559539481624443536.post-68558869288039418152009-10-28T10:44:00.000-07:002010-10-08T10:53:39.390-07:00FALL<em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">her in</span> 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.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">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.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Aprille</span> had wanted to visit but I had to drive round-trip <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">again</span> and I just wasn't up to it after the ordeal in Pennsylvania last winter.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">The family is all together again now save for one-yes, the last of the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Manduka's</span>"- I hope my children get on the stick with career and weddings so I can see some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grandkids</span>-one thing is for sure I am next on the list.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Aprille</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">cremated</span> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Newmyer</span> funeral home in Harrisburg as per her request. The ashes are at our cousin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Bettejean</span> "Sis" Weber's home of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Etters</span>, and are to be scattered about my mothers ashes in the rose garden at the family home at 3937 Walnut Street.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">I am glad cousin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sissie (Mom's brother's-Harold Hatfield daughter)</span> and her husband Russ have tried to help my sister and check on her during my travels. It is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">a shame</span> 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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Gogh</span>, but in actuality a much better artist.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">She was my mentor and teacher who had me reading and doing math, playing chess at age 5. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Wyalusing</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Homet's</span> Ferry,PA) as children, succumbed as only a sensitive can to the ugliness of a wanton and brutal modern world, perhaps as it is.</span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">She expressed herself in her music, writing and most of all art-I hope it can be preserved as her testimony.</span></em>Mandukehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15047489934735149025noreply@blogger.com0