Deep Winter

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 then thusly shall I go away.

They are cute in their collective muse as I may stay as long as I please....but I suspect that only an excuse perfused thus that I may unknown and no threat to a simple state of being.

I at once went to a smelt shack of friends last a week. We trod heavy snow with some glee past along by the homebrew beer and Tignish 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 un ceremoniously harpooned...making a delicious meal, dusted in flour and roasted in the fat du jour.

On a more personal note.....well it has expanded. Life here is much as 8 Th grade when I played football... there are cheerleaders, the undateable, 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 Hibernia amongst my unleavened friends...yes truly mad...but oh so much fun.....

Shel would have liked this winter on island with me, as it will most likely be my last...the desert beckons....tanned Spanglish speaking ladies await..

Fall

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 returning to school, the tourists from "away", returning home. I remain.

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.

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 embarrassing experience. We went to the last barbecue 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 elegance that I had planned. In such a small town as Summerside, 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 liaisons have ended.

Many of my new friends are associated with fishing here in town, or friends 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 disappeared former young wife.

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.

I have finally purchased long-needed items such as a new television, radio equipment, and fishing tackle.

There has been much effort in the restoration of my truck, the last remaining vestige of a prior life and a distant universe. At this time, I expect to remain here for the foreseeable 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 facebook, 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 lol and omg of our internet 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 experience over the last 30 years.

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.

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 Scotia. 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.

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.

Thus is my life on this day in September, 2010.

August 11 2010

Yes today is actually the 10Th. Tomorrow is a day of many birthdays. My daughter turns 18, my grandfather (Manduka) 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.

It was sultry here today, very Northeastern summer day with much heat sun and humidity after the rains. The evening now is cooler and dry-fallish. I walked over to the little park near my old home to visit my wishing pond. They have planted water lilies. 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.

I rode shotgun today up west to Carl Campbell's salvage yard to assist my fishing buddy Glen Currie pick up his Toyota tercel. 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.

I spoke to my children today. Rhonda is taking them out tonight for a dinner in celebration of Alexis's 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.

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.

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.

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 needed to hear. So that at least for now, is that.

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 circle 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.

Hopefully I can make some beach time and get some fishing in this week. Summer is running down, trout wane and the mackerel arrive now.

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 South 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 Heathkit and strung my first home made wire antenna.

So that is August on the island for me. Live in the moment.

"Short Note" on the Blue Moon

Its "Twice in a Blue Moon" for me. The winter solstice 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 frozen pond at our memorial park. Often a coin is tossed with a hope for all as always for an abundance.

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.

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 stressful and more recent dalliance concludes simply and with a hint of relief. The death of my sister in October ends the existence of my immediate family on this earth save one (me). Both of my adult children are on their way into life in various states of confusion or over-confidence so much like teenagers.

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 high 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.

It is also time now write the conclusion. Not this journalistic read here that is completed only out of reverence for 30 years of diaries penned by me, now lost. But to actually do "something". The novel or collection of short stories to be.

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.

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.

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. Forgiveness is a tangible 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. Forgiveness within a life without fear.

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?

Trust me on this matter I speak from experience. To fully push the envelope 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.

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 material world and a black and white life.

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.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year-Go live it in honesty without fear, with charity, forgiveness and appreciation. 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?

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?

My Favourite Month

Well not really. I haven't written this month here, but I have made audio recordings and a long-hand old style journal entry. Life goes on here in Juniata County. I feel as distant from Harrisburg as I did on the island as the kids are still hard to reach. My working roommates come and go at all hours, but are generally well mannered and respectful. We had one disagreement and I really do think one of them was trying to force me out, in that I have a nice furnished two rooms, good heat, my computer and a big cable TV.

I may be wrong. In any case the landlords young son Simon, 11, is now staying with us. He wanted to get away from his mother in Kentucky. Jason asked if I would help him with his homework. Well its beyond that, I make him breakfast and see him off to school and take him fishing and feed him when he gets home. His father works long hours for the railroad and told me he has little patience.

Some of Simon's friends already refer to me as the "nanny", in an odd twist of fate. But it gives me something to do. Mary says I am being abused. She has a problem that I see now-she has never been loved and sees human caring and protectiveness as some kind of weakness. Unless it is towards her of course. I think she is too cold and too demanding for me. Talk about the classic "Guilt Trip", to coin a phrase. I told her that I am a free spirit and that go where I please. She says that I can't. Don't tell me "can't".

The other reason that I haven't written is that my old PEI computer died. I bought this laptop on Ebay. Most all of my work and images are on line so I didn't lose much.

The good news today was that I heard from Shel. I had wrongly threatened to turn her into the RCMP for what is really a non-issue. I was very upset after an ice-cold email she sent that was just too much. I told her today that I am just glad that she is safe and happy and that I will leave her be. The awful part of it is that if she needed me, I would probably leave right now. Probably. After all she is still my family and shall remain so, I hope that over time we can at least establish a correspondence-that would be wonderful.

That all means that when I crossed the bridge into New Brunswick on December 3rd, that world and really a 20 year cycle came to an end. I have been amazed for all of my internet presence and writings, how few people I hear from, really hundreds whose lives I were in have simply vanished.

I have a few new DVD's I bought-one is the "Edge" with Anthony Hopkin's. The film is very hard for me to watch.

So I wait to decide my next life or Port 'O Call. We'll see as the winter wains and maybe my heart gladdens in a new horizon, always warmed by the fondest of memories-being truly in love. Maybe I will be myself again. Its been 5 years. Some may say longer.

Christmas 2008

Well home for Christmas-the first time in 2 years. I won't say that it was a joyous day. No time with my children as mom in a rare turn of events stayed home this year. I did spent part of Christmas eve with the kids. Joey and I went to Giant so he could buy the dinner trimmings for Rhonda. Alexis gave me a present. The book "Buddha" by Chopra. It was the first real gift I have had for a time, and it was a very nice gesture by my wonderful children.

After having lunch with my sister, who was very sullen and always seems about to rage at me, I returned home. Actually Kelly did decide to have some people over. She invited me to watch "Its a wonderful life", her family tradition. Kelly is tense and sullen most of the time too. Tomorrow I am meeting a guy about a house in Pinetown, very close to the Chimney house, along Stony Run. It might be a good place to be for a time.

Yes, I do miss the island, my home and friends there-the frozen sea and the music, dancing with my Irish Mary, and the piles of snow. Well maybe not so much the snow. The weather here in the Lower Susquehanna valley is as I remember it. Mostly cold, gray, and damp. But markedly warmer than PEI. But yesterday, Christmas day was bright beautiful and warmish. My heart wasn't too warm. I feel a little displaced away from home, even being farther away from absent Shel. I do miss Mary.

So its a matter of settling here for a time and waiting to see what is the best course of action. About a week ago I asked the kids if they really want me to stay here at home in PA for a longer time. They were emotional, especially my daughter, and the answer was a fervent yes.

For a time I just thought it might not be the best place to be after the holidays, and I would push on to home to Arizona and try and re-enter that universe, sans a wife. Somehow Arizona without Shel seems like a void space. But that may change. I thought about a return to the island soon, but I just can't really face returning there in February-although I had arrived there to stay back in Feb 2006. That was a mild winter there. This past was not as the wind howled and there were 3 storms a week for months. Not flurries either. Rooftop blizzards.

So I am just waiting. If this house works out tomorrow I am just going to take it and wait for spring, seeing my kids and sister as best I can and they want too. It was the right decision. I need alone time to work on my writing. The block is slowly dissipating. In some ways I am still looking for the conclusion. As with my life with Rhonda, my life on the island has so many unresolved issues. I mean emotional ties that are weakened, but not entirely absent. Perhaps that is normal or a characteristic of my bizarre journey through life.

Time has passed swiftly here already. It is hard to believe After almost 3 years on the island, at first with lovely Shel, then alone but in our home, it has ended. I sometimes worry that the Yellow Breeches, my family, and my writing won't be sufficient to fill the voids. This "time heals all" is just a falsehood. But perhaps once more I can attempt to put together at least part of this broken home. Numerous previous attempts have failed due to money issues, jealousy and selfishness (on every bodies part, except the children). My audio recordings continue. My entries here go on sporadically. I even did a long hand entry is my regular diary, a journal Shel gave me sometime ago.

Kelly just stopped by and told me I could eat the steak that was in the fridge. She put an incense in my room and I guess she thinks I had the window open due to odor. In fact this is a very clean house, except for Shane's muddy paws. She seems to sleep all day, and clean all night. Maybe she wants me to hang around for a while. I will have to see how that goes.


The journey continues.

Crisp Night of the Full Moon

It has been almost two weeks since my last entry. I have continued my audio logs. The march of fall progresses as now we have the first frosts, red maple trees, and can see our breath. Not a whole lot of news from Shel. She is still looking for a place in our "big" city and says she will have her stuff out around November 1. I have missed her greatly but my girl is lost in her own fantasies-some about how truly awful I am and others about how truly wonderful she is.

I am still planning on leaving the island at some point. The details are a bit difficult as there is really no way to select a home on the other end-I really need to go there and look around. This will mean some time in a motel. I just hope I do really get some time with the kids or I might just as well stay put here.

At least the Canadian dollar has crashed along with the US stock market. This adds a few dollars to my pension on this end-actually discounting my rent by about 40% should the loonie stay down until the end of the month.

I spent a lot of time with my lady friend Mary this weekend. It is nice to be pampered by a lady again. She is a good cook and very spiritual and feminine. We went up to North Cape today to see the wind farm. She, born and raised on the island, had never been there. Its 60 miles from Summerside.

She has never been in a plane. She has been off island twice in 50 years. The tragedy of her island life-especially her childhood and marriage is a horror. But it is all too common a tale when individual lives here in the Maritimes are examined. There is pain and human suffering beside the red cliffs and pastoral beauty of the planted fields.

I really am not sure what will come of it. All I know is this chapter closes. Shel fades to a tragic memory, among the joyous glimpses of our storybook romance and marriage. The travels. The foods. The love-making. Her beauty. Washed away in a sea of red clay tears on a foreign beach-sunk deep into the red mud of the old clay roads.

Mary to give me solace in her maturity and simplicity. Mary to be hurt when I leave the island as she and a few others are quite in love with me. The enigmatic Yankee. A romantic warrior tossed on a exile shore.

Crazy Germaine is back. I have been gone all weekend. Jerry let him in. Its OK-but he can't stay here forever without paying rent. He rather takes over the living room and smokes in there. His English is so bad its hard to communicate. Hopefully he will make some fertilizer, sell it, and go back to the Magdalen Islands. Somehow I doubt it will all be that easy.

I had invited Shel over Sunday as I had some oysters and quahogs left over that Manny Gallant gave me. I never heard anything and continue to get cold, unfriendly mails. She claims to be coming over to organize this week. I am not sure why. So I asked her to give me a little warning. There is no way that she doesn't miss her life. She thinks she has improved, reinvented herself. She is now just another young girl with nothing, working a minimum wage job, uneducated, with a hollow future. It is a far cry from Arizona palm trees and a pool , no responsibility and no cares.

She will miss that as the years swiftly pass. I can reinvent all that rather easily. But there will be no Shel. Actually now I am unsure that we will remain the promised friends we agreed to be. It is really tough to lose a loved one. Death is an eye opening. I still miss my dad after 36 years. My mother, my rock and guide gone now just over 4 years. My beloved wife, gone on lies and tragedy now almost 5 years. But my best friend-alive and unrepentant, still breathes an easy breath while the tears of our souls rain on the lost hollows of the broken heart.

But I will still make the effort. I will email her with news of the travels. She shall be a central character in the novel. I hope she gives me an address so I can send her magnets and postcards. Perhaps she doesn't care. Never really did. Now I know why Germany lost a war they should have won. No quarter. No forgiveness. The savagery of the Hun. Blue eyes flashing, Blond curling. Blood flowing. Defeated.

Letter To My Wonderful Son

Son,

I was very moved and a bit surprised at your mail regarding my fantastic mother. I know from the first time she held you as an infant that you had a close spitirtual bond. She was a very private person. I had always hoped you would have had the time to know her life. Especially the real powerful love she felt for my father, your and my namesake.

If you think of her, much that she wanted to tell you was blocked by the ugly situation you found yourself in. I mean the tension between your mother and me. She truly loved you and your sister. She was handicapped the the silly and unnecessary issues of the day.

I am most glad you knew this fine proper lady. She was the light of our family in her simplicicity, appeciation of beauty, and of life itself.

Only with much time will you know this gift.

I miss her greatly, as I do my amazing father, now and forever.

Just know that her blood flows in your veins, and she remains with you forever. She was most proud of her heritage, as founders of of our great country. Our people founded all that we love, and she stood as a beacon of that that is good. She had flaws. Often some sharpness, but always meant to build you high and to remind you of who you are.

That we both knew her, and are both products of the immense love she had for my father, your grandfather are gifts beyond earthly value.

My smile and pride brims in you and you lovely sister, my children.

When in doubt or sadness remember her. She has immortality.

Fear not.

Dad

Mail From My Son

THE DAY SHE DIED

You never truly expect death to happen until it finally occurs within your life. When your young, you are so wrapped up in the present that you never truly consider the possibility you may die some day. However, when someone close to you finally goes, it can change your perspective on many things. This experience is usually not the most pleasant. For me, I’d say my worst experience was when my grandmother died. It was this event that caused to see the true value of life and the relationships we have with others. My views took such a drastic change since I saw the sadness death causes in others, the fragility of life, as well as my own regrets regarding my relationship with my grandmother. I hope that Readers’ Digest will help to honor her memory.

The most obvious revelation I had did not occur while my grandmother was dieing. I suppose I couldn’t really comprehend someone I had known all my life was truly leaving us. Rather, the revelation came the week following her death. Never before had I felt such an emptiness within myself and in others. My mother and father barely spoke to one another for days. My grandma May, as she had been known, was my father’s mother. For him, I suppose the tragedy was the worst of all. We had been through hard to times before, but nothing like this . My father would often sit alone in his room, usually crying, sometimes just staring into space silently. Being close to my father, this was difficult for me, I simply did not know what to say, so I left him to his thoughts. It was the saddest day of my life.

My mother and sister were also so affected by this in different ways. My mother seemed to be shut away from the rest of the world, getting lost in books or her cooking. My sister, like myself, seemed to have difficulty understanding grandmothers’ death. She and I would talk about it, neither one of us truly knowing any truly comforting thing to say to the other. Never before had I felt so alone.

Secondly, my grandmothers’ death made me truly aware of my own mortality for the first time. I had thought about death before, but never with this amount of clarity. All I could do was think about my own eventual demise. How, when, where would my life end? What would happen when I died? Would I simply fade away into nothingness? These thoughts and others plagued my mind. Never before had I realized how fragile life is or how brief a time we occupy this little planet. I would like to say these thoughts no longer linger within my mind but, my grandmothers’ death has an effect on me to this day. I shall never forget the fear and doubt which haunted me that week following her death.

The most difficult aspect of this event I was forced to overcome was the regret I felt for not appreciating my grandmother while she was still alive. We had gone to visit her every Sunday over the years. To me it was simple routine. In all that time I never really asked her any questions about herself or her experiences. She had lived for Eight-five years and I never took the time to find out anything about her. Now that she is gone, all I have are my memories of her. I still often think of our visits to her little house. I remember her dog which barked at anything that moved and the beautiful paintings she made. I miss her kind demeanor and her soft voice. I will never forget them. My grandmothers’ death was difficult, but it made me understand something. Life is precious. We must treasure our lives and the people we care for most. In the end all we have are our memories, so we might as well make some good ones while we can.

Strong winds, Angry sea

So October arrived yesterday very gently. The warm afternoon and a glass calm harbour made for some nice relaxing fishing. It really wasn't my day. I only caught a few small smelt and 2 scrawny mackerel. But they cooked up nicely with island tomato-cucumber salad, farm fresh carrots and potatoes, and quahogs and oysters courtesy of Manny Gallant.

Manny is a soulmate fisherman and friend, perhaps business partner to be of mine. He pines away for his pretty wife. He opines that he is illiterate as he has been in a boat since age 12 to help with the family fishing business, and never went to school. I explain that I find it rather charming. This soulful man is healthy and prosperous. He glows with what I now identify as "Island Health". They have that here. Fishing. Can't read or write much. Oysters. Never been off island. Mackerel. Neat little farm. Artist wife. Never been in a plane. Inbreeding. Fresh quahogs. Big tomatoes. Healthy kids. 4 wheel drive. Divorce. Blizzards. Strong island moonshine. Hurricanes. I am in total complete envy. West Virginia on the Sea.

My soft tired educated body. I will miss this special place. Its rotund incomprehensible females. The shine. The bootleggers. Lobster at 4 bucks a pound. My wife.

I was sure that the last time I caught smelt I smelled something familiar-from a long ago dream-time. Yesterday I caught the scent when I landed the angry smelt-it was the smell of thyme and cucumber, that I had smelled long ago. The arctic grayling I caught in Alaska yarens ago smelled that way. Hence the scientific name of grayling, Thymallus. The arctic grayling is a sport fish somewhat like a trout. It has a huge very beautiful dorsal fin, almost like a sail. They are silvery gray and have tiny black and blue spots, as I recall. The fish used to range into the Northern US, but was extinguished long ago along with most good things during deforestation, pollution, greed, and mortal sin.

I have heard there are grayling stocked in the Arizona rim mountain lakes. To me, since I have spent a lot of the prior 15 years at those lakes fishing (for trout), I am unsure about any Arizona grayling. Maybe Montana or the U.P. of Michigan, but I can't confirm it. But in Alaska, grayling, like eagles are or were then (my last Alaska trip was in 1993), everywhere.

On the Internet I looked up smelt as the odour and even taste of these fish was grayling. Indeed they are closely related fish. The grayling has two distinct memories I will share here. When I took Rhonda to Alaska to go camping before we got married we fished grayling. I think I caught a bunch in a ditch by a culvert along the Denali Highway. It was probably 1985.

I took out our trusty little stove and cooked grayling along the road. Rhonda and I had fish together there, it was great. It is a very fond memory of my first wife before the dark times.

On the first trip to Alaska with Shel, wife 2, I fished grayling again in nearly the same spot. Actually, Shel only went to Alaska with me once. She was truly a child bride-barely 20 at the time of our trip.

I caught a truly impressive grayling, the largest I had seen. I wanted to take a photo of it. I asked Shel to hold the writhing fish up so I could take the shot. She, terrified of live fish to this day, refused. So you will have to take my word that that fish was 25 inches if it was a foot-thats a big grayling. (Alaskans consider grayling trash fish, pronouncing the name with a long A sound, ahhhhh, instead of the vowel-arctic graahhling.)

Here today as October begins the leaves are turning and falling very quickly. Very hard rain and hurricane force winds today made my evening walk difficult. The harbour was a froth of mud-red swells and shiny whitecaps, wind-whipped so salt can be tasted strong in the air in my living room.

I saw Cindy, but I didn't tell her I am moving out yet. The decision came painfully, slowly, but today I started to clean a bit and pack. I really have little to take south-just what I arrived here with 3 1/2 years ago.

Today 2 years ago I had been living on PEI 9 months. Shel asked me on this date back then, in 2006, to move out. It was then that the 6 month imbroglio with EIC and the Gustafson's began in Ottsville. It was really a wonderful experience and I had real quality time with my kids-even on the holidays. I know now that is why all that happened-it had little to do with business.

I will state for the record that both my Child-Centered Assessment and my E-Petz patents are great ideas. But I will have to do it myself or with family, without greed.

My pal Germain is back off to North Lake in search of Donnie Rose and Russian fish plant girls in Souris. I for one am about complete in my unpaid consulting services to Mr. Fougere. In fact, my friend Manny Gallant stopped by today. He has concerns about the business idea.

I told him I was glad to help, but that I am probably leaving, and that like the Gustafson's the chance of our colleagues (Fougere) business being a success were slim. Not because the idea is bad, but because of him.

Tomorrow I look forward to a calmer day and perhaps some fishing, and a call to the kids.

I guess I didn't record here that Shel stopped by Monday. She had said that she wanted to organize things. She still has no place and is living with Kathleen. There is much that both of us will have to leave behind-not the least of which are our hearts.

She was pretty angry at first. The issue of money and what bills are due being paramount. We settled that and she calmed a bit, looking stunning with bright blue-green eyes blaring and an adorable short-curly blond hairstyle-my Shel, my child-wife, who can't bear children. Tragedy within a tragedy.

She ate some of my cucumber salad and muffins. I had made cold coffee for her with creamer and sugar as she likes earlier in the day. I had to substitute honey for sugar, and I don't think she liked it so much. I thought it pretty good.

We actually parted on good terms. The one thing that sticks with me during her tirade was that she "wants her husband back". As if I am so different. so far, so much a distant memory. Oh save but one last chance to be a couple-she feels the loss too, but now moves into a new world.

Her world will not be the blissful days of lounging by our pool under the palms, with the smell of ancho chilies drifting on the wind. It will be 6 days a week of work without me.

It seems as Shel as an immigrant here has ended up a bit like my beautiful Russian fish plant girlfriends in Souris. 6 days a week of work and little money, in shared housing, praying for some escape after buying into the dream to live and work in Canada. To some of the girls, if not all I met, Kaliningrad is sounding better and better-to go home. That's a scary determination.

Maybe someday Shel will miss the palms, the chilies, and a real home too. She is part Russian, after all.

Up West and Real Work

So since I met the "Doctor" of organic landscaping Germain Fougere from the Magdalen Islands, I have been involved in a new and fascinating business venture. Involved originally only to set-up a web site and be a general business and entrepreneurship consultant, I am now actually getting my soft hands dirty.

We take a similar trip in the big Ford Diesel truck of "Fougere Organic Landscaping" about twice a week. Again today we went to the "Old Man's", a very pious anglophone gentleman named Loren near Richmond. Loren has clear bright intelligent blue eyes and is nearly deaf. Fougere has been storing equipment and supplies there. We loaded the trailer with what I imagine was close to a ton of plants, rocks, gardening stuff, shells, and one very heavy ( about 600 pounds) cast iron crusher. It had been a while since I worked that hard and I felt alive again. Loren lives in a homemade hut that is sinking into the boggy soil. It is filled with interesting but valueless things accumulated over his long life. He gave me two religious books, one called"I Need A Miracle" by Pastor Benny Hinn. I think he knew exactly what I needed. He had preached as a young man in Appalachia. I was somewhat envious, perhaps the smallest of my sins to date.

He carves amazing images of geese from huge pieces of wood and carefully paints them as to life. His wood stove is rusting through the floor. He has no insurance as his home is not "insurable". His phone was cut off. The company putting the power lines from Summerside to North Cape's new windfarm is coming across Loren's fallow sad land. He hopes they will pay a fair price for the easement. Maybe 6000 dollars. Perhaps this 85 year old man will not have to freeze alone in the cold this long and soon to arrive sub-arctic winter. His son distant and somewhat of an ass I am told, away in the "real world" and business.

It was a great clear sunny day. The sea was beautiful up west along the "lighthouse trail", route 11. We stopped as always to see Fougere's and now my friend Danielle. We need a motor and PTO ( Power Take Off) to run the lobster shell crushing machine. They talked Acadian, which I am starting to get a bit of, thanks little to my long forgotten high school Parisian French.

We then stopped at Manny's place to drop the trailer we will unload tomorrow. Manny is a soulful, sorrowful outwardly cheerful man, an oyster fisherman who built his own solid boat and at 55 could probably pick me up at 180 pounds like a feather. It was a great cold night, the milky way bright along with the planet Jupiter embedded in it like a bright white luminous gem. Manny lives on a neat little farm near his oyster beds in the Northumberland Strait. The farm is very neat and cozy and Manny is one of those people you instantly knew if you had to leave a thousand dollars cash with him to hold, it would be there when you return. He gets a few crates of oysters each day after 10 hours of back breaking work raking the bottom of the sea in churning swells under blistering sun or freezing winds.

Manny gets about 50 dollars a crate for his oysters. The shells are infested with shell worms this year. They cut tiny perfect holes in the shells but don't harm the delicious meat inside. Despite that, only one oyster buyer on the island will buy Manny's "ugly" oysters. Oddly enough its the oyster wholesaler across the way from George and Brenda Henderson's cottage in Freeland. That is where Shel and I stayed long ago when we were first coming here each summer. Long ago, so it seems, when I picked the wild mushrooms in George's little pine forest and steamed them with edible jewels from the sea (to the locals terror and amazement). I had learned, being self-taught, mushroom collecting in the high pine and aspen mountain forests of Arizona. Also dimming into that past.

He grows nice tomatoes and a few other things in a small garden. He shared tomatoes with us-a real luxury this far north when the incredibly short growing season ends. Manny is finalizing a divorce after 10 years with the artist wife who his feelings for are well concealed but to a fellow sufferer glow in that slight moistening of eye with a glance towards her primitive oils hanging on the old wall, or with a little deepening of the fisherman's sun and wind-worn brow. The artist wife. How well I know.

Manny is quite the artist himself. He crafts beautiful decorative items from driftwood and large, ancient white oyster shells. He built a little gift shop near the road that is quite a nice cottage in its own right, matching the perfect yellow Victorian farmhouse. He cries inside. Artist wife gone and the tourists far and few between. Gone now until summer returns-a truly distant and abstract thought. As goes the artist wife.

I know I'll be sore tomorrow-that's OK. No news from Shel, but I got a nice email from my son. Tomorrow we unload the ton of stuff and I hope my back holds out. Then to the beach for seaweed collection to make the fertilizer product.

You really never know whats around the next corner. I just wish it was spring instead of fall, as winter looms and I have decisions to make about my home and life on PEI. Quite a change in paradigm in a couple weeks. Maybe work therapy is what I need. I am really back in the environmental field in a very physical way. I also obtained oyster shell chemistry data for product labelling. Fougere needs my patent and trademark help too, but that comes later as orders are filled and I create an Internet presence. Its pretty exciting.

I have my desk work, legal work, computer, and even outdoor physical labour in one of the most beautiful places on earth. How about that? Retirement? Maybe, but it beats the button-downs and smog and office politics of the big city, in the "real world".

Sundays with Mary and the PEI "question"

So the first day of autumn is here. The day started cool, breezy and cloudy. By evening the sky cleared and it warmed the quiet town ever so slightly. Last night was my usual Saturday night at the "wing" as the air force legion hall is called here. I guess to distinguish it from the regular Canadian Forces "legion" that it sits beside. I met my friends Mary, Eva and her husband. Judy, Joan, and Rebe didn't show last night. There may have been a band elsewhere, and they are not big fans of Karaoke. Nor am I, but there are a few good singers and its better than sitting in my place waiting for emails from Shel or Joey. We sip water and dance rather badly I think. The attitude and music the very same as my nights spent in small taverns deep in the mountains of Appalachia during my years on the road.

Mary has become my special friend, after my very short relationship with Judy. Mary is a mature woman, tall with dark curly hair. She has lived her whole life on the island, born up the road a few miles in St. Eleanor's. She left the island once many years ago to go to her nephews wedding, I think, in Brampton, Ontario.

Her life has been a typical island, if not maritime tragedy. Her abusive mother kept her from her father who died, like mine, when she was 15. After a marriage that left her unable to remarry save she lose her support, she has had several variously awful romances. The last was with a trucker who was seemingly seeing another woman the whole time, 15 months, he was with her. This story is repeated in some form or another by almost everyone I meet here.

Mary and I dance and have been somewhat cuddly and close on the dance floor. We "waltz" as they call any dance to a slow song here, even when its rock and roll twist music. We often stay in embrace after the music stops and the dance floor empties-to the astonishment of everyone. Its good in some ways, but I doubt Ill get another date at the wing as I seem "taken". But it is a pure friendship and I suspect it will remain so.

I meet Mary Sundays and we talk for hours about family issues, good, bad, and ugly. Finding some comfort mutually in trying to discover why our relationships are so failed. It is quite sad. But the talks help. Today I showed her photos from my past lives-the big house, kids as babies playing at the New Jersey shore. My airplane, Mercedes, Chimney house-my red 'vette convertible with Shel lounging on the hood seductively somewhere in the mountain west years ago.

These are things as alien to her as a walk on the surface of Mars. I am attracted to her simplicity, lack of bitterness, and good church-going heart. Hours past and I just got home a bit ago. I missed my Sunday call to Joey as I had lost track of time. We sat today at the yacht club, as the mall was closed this Sunday, as it will be now as the tourists are gone away home, back to school, jobs, and the reality of the outside world.

One thing we discuss is my leaving PEI. Forever? For a month? Never? She overflowed like a happy teenager at a prom when I suggested I may not leave at all. It breaks my heart as I fear I may have to break hers. She won't be the only lady here that will miss me. And I will miss each and everyone of them.

No news today from my wayward Shel. Divorce now is imminent and I will have to file the papers soon. Shel wouldn't be able to, and she seems to think that we just go to the courthouse and sign a paper. It is , of course, more complex. I find the whole process distasteful and although I love my island, all those times I could have just stayed in PA with the kids makes me feel embarrassed. You see, I had three chances to stay in PA and chose each time to return to the island. Either to be with Shel or to try and get her to come home. As recently as August 5th, Shel was moving back in with me and/or going to Calgary with me. But no. It didn't happen.

So the three years I have been here seem a bit wasted. I mean that I could have had a little time with the kids as kids. But they have grown up, suddenly while I was here trying in vain to recapture a marriage that as I realize now was over in 2003. I guess.

I read Shel's journals from the 90's and she tells page by page of he unending love for me. Well it seems ended. One way or the other I must escape that bind. A new life-here on the island of dreams and sorrows, or back in harsh reality down south, in the states, my home home in Harrisburg to be near my beloved children.

Mail from an old friend, associate, and student at HTS

Please don't conclude that I believe everything Brian Feeney or Rhonda ever said. LOL

I acknowledge that you were among the very first people to advance the very same environmental assessment protocols in use today. In fact, our company's Phase I ESA uses a checklist very similar to the one HTS used in the late 1980s. I might have an old HTS Phase I ESA somewhere around. I never present myself as self-educated in this work; anyone ever asks, I was originally trained by you. When I say this, it actually drives Roni nuts. Many Manduke-isms that were true remain true today. Sometimes I tell the staff things even today that I recall you saying to the staff almost 20-years ago.

I might be a harsh critic, but I am also a fierce defender of yours. I gave you superior recommendations for your job interviews.

I am still wondering why you aren't at the helm of one the largest ESA companies in the US. Someday I might figure that one out.

Jim G.

Mail from my fine son

Dad,

Keep enjoying your fish. You sound a little lonely up there. I was thinking that if you came down we might not see each other that much but it would certainly be more than it is now. I've been seeing lots of homes for rent around here. There are definently places to stay. Even a place by the library caught my eye. Well, life has been good. Beautiful down here. Starting to cool off a little though. Been hearing about more hurricanes so I expect some rain. Everyone seems ok. Lexi got a job at Party City (costume place), started Monday. She enjoys it. It's cool. Mom transferred to another Dept. too. She also enjoys it. I still work at YP but I lowered my hours and have been enjoying it more lately. You would be proud, I'm attending church with Andrea and her folks now. There is a sermon and a parenting class I'm taking with her. I've been getting a great deal of postive messages lately from professors, the pastor and even my therapist. I'm trying to take your advice and live in the moment. Really happy at the moment. I'm looking forward to going fishing ,Star Trek, and good conversation again. Seeya dad. Love,Joey-----Original Message-----From: joe manduke To: Joey Sent: Tue, 9 Sep 2008 4:43 pmSubject: Tuesday Sept 9
Bink,

Just an update note-I won't call you until Friday or Sunday if you are around. Lots of rain here in and out as summer ends. The tall (sailing) ships are in town this week along with a parasailing meet-so big ships by where I fished docked-kinda cool.

I guess I said Shelly is off to Charlottetown to start her new life-obviously done in many ways so she can start a new life away from our town here. She is doing well and I guess I will just have to be happy with her friendship, if that survives-I hope so. OH, she sends her regards and love to you both..it is all exceptionally unfortunate and I have had some dark days pal, but it is time to try to come home. Any help you can offer I humbly accept.

Fishing has been slow due to wind and tides. But I am still munching on fish I have frozen. I have a french speaking guy, a fisherman from islands north of here who is staying with me until he gets his business going. Its ok but his english is weak and I am totally immersed in french for the moment-lol.

So there it is. The truck still needs work but I am confident it will come home. November 3rd is prob my departure day as most practical-we will see. Check the army location near the house and ask if they could help me for a month or so after this imbroglio-lol You can prob just stop by.

I am homesick as hell now, and want to try and make this happen as painfree as possible...any thoughts are appreciated...I know..just drive away..lol

Love you much

Dad

Finding a conclusion

Just a short note. As a writer I really wanted some dramatic conclusion to my biography. The potential journey to Calgary with Shel for example, which never happened. Or her return to Summerside to make up and try and rebuild our lives. Never happened.

Now she is off to Char'town and I remain fishing mackerel and writing these snippets. Not so much drama. Perhaps my time with some of my new Arcadian friends will add spice. Then I am almost sure now that I return to home to assist my children and sister. What an experience! Almost 4 years retired at age 51-living here and the travels-not too shabby. Sorry, but I have had a blast.

Especially this summer in Banff, Lake Louise, and with my son at special family places herein written. Of course there have been some hard times being retired. Greatly reduced income. Avoidance of buying unnecessary material things. People looking askance at a 50 year old retiree who has really been retired much longer than 4 years. Go figure?

A good friend-actually someone I trained in the environmental field said that since I live on a remote island in a foreign country, write poetry, and go on about my love of Michelle, that I am now persona non grata in an industry I helped build. So be it. If that is the colourless case of my fellow engineers and scientists (which I do not fully buy) then I shall remain a retired writer and fisherman and let them all be envious.

Labour Day 2008

So the end of summer finally on the island. Of course there will be a few more warm days. But in weeks the leaves will change and fall away. A bright red carpet of maple leaves will give way to perhaps again incredible snow piles and the driving winter winds-for 6 months. It sure makes me think of a return to Arizona at this time of year. Shel is off to Charlottetown soon to work in the "Best of PEI" store. She is very excited and will find a place to live there.

Her cottage will be closed in two weeks and she said she may move in here again for a time. That is fine, as I miss her company.
The kids are doing well. Alexis is looking for a part-time job now that she is 16, and Joey seems to be enjoying college.
My sister still wants to visit me here-but the two round trips seems daunting now, and she is hard to predict.

Joey wants me back for Christmas and to just move back to PA. This is now finally a real possibility at long last. It is clear, at least today. that Shel will not be coming home. I was amazed when she said she would be going with me to Calgary when I went back to work. When that didn't come through and Shel decided not to move back in here in Summerside I was pretty crushed. So these next two weeks will assist me in rendering a decision as to stay or go from the Island. It will be tough in any case and I may just decide one more winter here will be fine.

I have been fishing at the wharf almost everyday day. Its raining today and I was going to go but the truck is pretty moisture sensitive and i have to wait for drying weather now.
People have instructed me on Mackerel preparation and I have enjoyed the endless supply of fresh fish.

It is amazingly quiet today. I will probably take a walk in the rain down to the closest pier and take in the storm over the harbour. No matter what I will miss this place as home, but with waning Shel and a needy family, perhaps time along the Yellow Breeches is long over due.

Sunny day after 3 weeks of rain

Finally the sun appeared in Summerside today. I have been fishing for mackerel at the city pier. It was nice to sit out in the rain yesterday and fish. It reminded me of a cool spring day during Pennsylvania trout season on the Yellow Breeches long ago.

I had thought Shel would be moving back in after her job at Frenchy's in Borden ended in the fall. But she did get a job at the "Best of PEI" store in Char'Town starting September 8. She lost her purse and all of her ID during her move from Elayne Lord's place in Cape Traverse. I attempted to assist her in getting another drivers licence. but there are Arizona paperwork problems and I may have to take Shel to Halifax to resolve them.

Since nothing seems to be coming out of my Canadian job search, I am looking south again. I did enjoy my trip to Calgary and my short visit to Banff and Lake Louise. I am short listed on an Army job at the Red River Depot-but I am not sure about Texas.

In talking with the kids it may be time to bid goodbye to my place on PEI and go back to Pennsylvania. I know Joey would like that, and with no roommate again this winter, a long period of frozen ocean seems less appealing than ever.

It would be nice to go to Halifax with Shel. Maybe we can stop by our Port Dufferin house and share that moment one last time. I am sure the path will be shown to me, but it seems my time here with Shel is finally ending. It was my best effort in something I felt was most important for us both. Some battles cannot be won, no matter how true the intentions.

The weather looks good for a while now after 3 weeks of gloom and cool winds. The fish are in and the sun warm. If this is my last summer on the island, I want to make it as good as I can. The issues and realities of family down south are somewhat daunting after this idyll. But I have to do what is best now for Joey, Alexis, and my sister.

Sunset

I see nothing as the golden sunset over the harbor of my exile paradise. So the job out west seems as it willl take a w hile. I was unhappy that my Shel didn't come into today from Borden. I danced ny heart out with some truly athletic ladies-quite happpy I can still move with them. My own former athletic abilities helped

July 19, 1979

Nice today, warm and sunny. In the morning Ann came over and I took her back to the train. Now I will work on her car for a while. Dave and I got parts at the Penn Jersey. Later, we went with his friend Ed to Jersey to pick up a race car frame.

We stopped to eat on the way back. Carol and her sister took their mother to the doctor tonight. We all took a late ride to get gas in the mustang.

Modern note:
I think gas was about 40 cents a gallon then.The supply would last forever and always be cheap. There was an OPEC oil embargo some years before-which turned out to be prophesy. AH-the memories of youth!

Pretty typical summer day in the 70's. Ann was a classmate of mine from Temple Geology. She liked me and I worked on her 1967 mustang coupe. Being totally loyal to Carol, I never was with Ann. Her car was later stolen and never recovered.