Spring Rains

So spring finally arrives here on the island. Warm south winds bring the delayed spring here north and far east of my ancestral home. It always seems the seasons are a month off here. The cool returns in late August and Spring on or about May 1 at this latitude. Its really the icy waters that control the weather. Its been warmer on the mainland. Here, it will take several months for the increasing sun to really warm to a moderate temperature.

I hope to get out this weekend to chase some sea-trout up west. "Up west" means the Acadien part of this island, that begins a few miles from here. There, French is widely spoken and the streams are cleaner, wilder.Its not that critical that I fish immediately, as I have all season to pursue the brook trout that has been at sea as they return to spawn. The sad part is that so many streams here are silt-chocked due to agricultural run-off. That combined with the not rare enough ignorant release of chemicals from careless farmers fields has hurt both the commercial and sport fisheries. This saddens me as I imagine what a paradise this place must have been before settlement and deforestation long ago.

More trees need to be planted and stricter rules enforced. But the economy is poor here and farmers rule. Soon the "tourist" season will begin. Each year it seems that fewer people visit the island. The obnoxious bridge has removed some of the mystery associated with a visit here. Upon our first arrival in the early 90's, a ferry was required to reach this shore. The isolation, although subtle created a unique language and genealogy here that I am just beginning to figure out. My lady Mary is such an example. Often I still don't know what she is talking about. Yes, these folks are separated from the Yanks by a common language.

We go out on weekends dancing. I challenged Mary to identify anyone in any of the clubs who doesn't have a blood relative in the room. She balked, but when we asked about it, everyone had kinfolk in the place. Mary's cousins are always there. Another sensitive point is the large number of physically or mentally challenged people I see everyday. I was told this is because in Canada, the folks are more integrated and accepted. In fact, my theory is that the reduced gene pool is the root cause. This would sure to yield harsh words, or a punch in the nose should I openly disclose it. Much like the isolated valleys of the mountains to the south, this place and its culture was born in the harsh reality of rural life. This includes poverty and inbreeding among the families here.

I know many people who have never been off the island and only rarely go to Charlottetown, the provincial capital about an hour away.

My friend Manny Gallant came by. He asked me to put some of his driftwood sculpture on EBay. I have done so, but I am dubious of the outcome. He makes items from big old Malpeque Bay oysters and driftwood he collects at Holman's island. Pronounced "Mawl-Peck", from this bay come the finest oysters in the world.

Like many lifetime fisherman here, he is nearly illiterate. I find this charming and at times envy him, as I have written before. He explains he has been in a boat nearly since he could walk, and had little time for schooling. The usual harsh childhood, similar to Mary's and many other shaping an island stoicism that is tough for a soft educated spoiled Yankee to grasp. Alcoholism and brutality shaped many a childhood here. This is shown by the angst of failed lives and relationships, broken angry families, and an unearned ignorant pride that it creates in a soul. Some of this is evidenced in my own family. My first wife's mother was raised in such an environment on Newfoundland. The transfer of her pain effected the mother of my children, and even flavours some of their attitudes and fears.

But I love this place. Carefully backing-off on my Yankee attitude and my own ignorance, I have been slowly accepted as an "islander". But with my unique surname here, and without kin, I remain separate.

But I sure look forward to the trout and the beach. In fact this is one place that I can live in a "resort" and be able to live a normal life on my pension. I still struggle with a possible return to the states and a job. Mary would be crushed should I make that choice. It seems my children do OK without me, perhaps thrive without the fear that their mother would go mad if I was nearby. But I may try again.

Its that or make a life here for the time being. Its not so bad. I fear "island fever", which is one reason I decided not to settle on Kauai for a bit. I have to take my own advice, as I gave to my son, "one day at a time, and enjoy life as it come". As my much missed mother had advised.

Trout Season on Prince Edward Island

Many years have past since I actually went out on a cold spring morning to observe this rite of spring. In fact, I cannot remember the last time. Year after year I had planned this event with my son in Pennsylvania. I think we last came close in the spring of 2007 at Clark's Creek just before my ever-predictable return to this island.

I attended a friends funeral here on the Tuesday before our fishing season started. My friend Lloyd from our local legion was 74, and a well know local fiddler. We would sit and chat about mostly religion among the artifacts of war drinking draft Canadian beer. While Mary and I were in church on maundy Thursday, Lloyds wife Shirley waited and Lloyd never came to church where she was to meet him. She found him dead on the living room sofa, after returning home concerned. Lloyd was never late for mass at St. Paul's.

The funeral was the Catholic rite of internment and a high mass. It was nice to attend the sacraments again, but I will miss my friend. The tears welled with memories of past losses of all kinds, and thoughts of the future losses to come. Now I feel part of the town. I had been to such events before, but not for someone that I knew well. The funeral included fiddling and I felt close to home, somewhere west of Harrisburg, in a mountain halla or maybe at the Oriental Hotel in Juniata county.

Those events set the stage for trout season here. The dark calm morning was icy cold with some snow on the ground and calm winds. I left at 5 AM as the season begins at 6:00. The selected spot a few miles East of Summerside on the upper Wilmot River, near an place called Marshbank's pond. The Wilmont empties into the sea about 4 miles below my spot and is straight and wild as it mixes into the salt of Summerside harbour. I could barely see, but parked by a bridge and walked down to the small stream. It was clear with a brownish bottom and some debris. The spot reminds me of the Yellow Breeches near New Cumberland. It isn't all that wild at that point, there are summer cabins and trailers, reminiscent of the rest of Appalachia.

A few cold bodies waited nearby as the crescent moon dropped lower opposite the planet Mercury in a bright frigid azure sky, Mercury shining as the morning star afore the rising sun. The folks spoke in muffled tones of how good the river is, and how they had caught big sea-run trout here over the years. We all cast (all 4 of us) at 6 AM and waited as the sun stubbornly climbed and our toes numbed. The young fellow with his brother and grandma across from me caught a small trout about 6:15. Ice formed on my rod tippet as the line was retrieved. I cast and drifted bait for 2 hours and with no fish, then sat in the Blazer and recorded in my audio diary.

The water is simply too cold, and most trout arrive here later in the spring. Later, I fished the nearby pond with no results. I don't feel too bad-that one trout was the only one caught that I witnessed.

One thing I found odd was that the island has no "non-resident" fishing licence. We all pay 30 bucks, unless we want to fish for salmon and pay an extra fee. All salmon fishing here is catch and release.

I also realized in my hasty departure from Pennsylvania, I left my small lure box in my son's car. I also have his rod and vest. So I will probably move from bait fishing to fly-rod as the weather warms, unless I get a few spinning lures here.

This day after the season opener is cold and breezy and bright. The air will remain cool another month or longer until the surrounding icy sea warms from the strengthening spring sunshine. I have many other streams here and ponds to explore. But it just isn't home nor the same without my boy along. I just have to pretend that I am that teenager that I was with my first car, before my first girl was in my life-driving around with my rod looking for meaning in a stream or on the rural roads.

I admit to being a bit homesick at this time of year. But I will probably remain on the island a
while this time. Life is easier to deal with here for me. But I miss my family and the pain remains vivid of yet another futile attempt to be with family and haunts. So as the lonely roving fisherman of the Pennsylvania back-roads found in the 1970's, I will find here places that can fill the void, maybe catch a fish and kiss a girl-attend the mass, and try to make sense of the issues of the day, both mine and the desperate pursuits that drive the people in the real world-far from this place. Far from my island. The rite of spring, a rite of life.

Transition Day on Prince Edward Island

So today begins the second day of the first full month of spring. Three weeks have past since my return to my adopted home. Mary has been a gracious host but as we spend more time together I see more clearly how our different paths in life have made us so different. I realize also at this point in my life she is a great friend and in reality has probably saved me from some difficulties now thwarted. My old truck was moisture sensitive this morning as an unforecast and therefore unexpected icy- cold damp north wind driven drizzle prevented ignition this morning. Mary bundled up like an Eskimo and has gone to walk up to her work today on Victoria road.

Tomorrow I hope the truck will start or I can get some wire drier and get it running. A trip to Carl's to get those ignition parts put on and an oil change is now imperative. Also tomorrow I am to pay Allan Brown for my rental on Convent street. I am really looking forward to finally unloading and organizing my "kit" and having some alone time. Not only to catch up on the writings but to reflect on the time with Mary, and my recent winter in Pennsylvania with family.

I have been struggling to a conclusion for my writing. Now I feel that I have to make one. But conclusion means where I draw the line-to what end. I mean to stay here, take another stab at PA, or go radical and try and make it back to Arizona at some point. I have decided April is the month of rest-some sea-trout fishing here on the island, and contemplating the summers. In fact, I really have to decide in May where I shall remain.

I had an email from Joey today and he seems OK, and he wants me to call tomorrow around noon his time. Then of course it will be dancing at the "Wing" with Mary and since its a popular band, "Misty Waters", maybe the "Rock and Roll Girls" will reassemble again. Since Mary and I paired off, the old group has been no more. I saw Judy and Joan at different times around town. They seemed ill and bloated and sad. Great sadness here. Great poverty and tragedy hidden in semi-superficial Canadian bliss.

The loonie remains under 80 cents giving my American pension a nice boost. In fact living here gives me a 20% pension increase at the moment. The American car companies move relentlessly to bankruptcy, unemployment soars, and foreclosures continue. The vast American economy in its illness sickens the tiny dependant Canadian economy as when in a siege, ancient armies threw rotten carcasses into a city to sicken and kill the inhabitants. Not that any of this was really intentional (?), but it was avoidable.

For me, on a fixed livable income, depression and deflation are welcome. Poverty causes price reduction, improving my standard of living. If the loonie crashes against the greenback, I win. Sad, but true. Yankee in paradise. I just hope my truck starts and I can catch a few sea run brook trout.

I have heard from my absent and remote "wife". She is still in Charlottetown carless. She has asked me to to find a small book of quotes she had by Norman Vincent Peale. It was always in our bathroom on Central Street. It was a gift to Shel from her friend Tracy. She somehow thinks that I have it. I will look through my stuff, but I am almost sure she took it during her move-out period or it is still in the bookcase at 67 Central Street. I will look. But I told her that I may be able to get another one on Amazon. But she wants that book. I asked why the sudden wave of nostalgia and had no response. We have both lost so many material things of sentimental value. Shel makes me very sad. The awful fact is I am still in love with her, even after this terror, and I find it hard to give Mary 100%.

What a winter!

Spring on Prince Edward Island

Well perhaps it goes without saying, after this long delay in writing here that once again the adventure has taken another turn. Things went south with my army buddy Jason at the Juniata county house and it was time to leave, rather abruptly I might add. I bailed in with my sister and we took an impromptu but traditional (and traditionally expensive) trip to Atlantic City. We spent a few days with our old friend of childhood, the New Jersey shore. My pals at the little Greek restaurant remembered us and we had some good food there at the end of Kentucky Ave. We had a great ocean view suite at the Renaissance Hotel, room 907.

At that time 2 weeks ago I had just planned on renting a place near the kids and just continue on with the family reunification mission. The place south of town was marginal but affordable until something else better came along. Joey and I took a ride down to scope the place and he agreed I should probably not be stuck down there on I-83. So after a night at the kids place and a hassle parking the Blazer, I just decided to drive back here to the Island.

I went on a pizza delivery with Joey and emotionally told him I was heading North again. I think he was sad, but perhaps relieved too. It had been a strain as R never knew I had returned to PA for over 3 months. Alexis had an incident with her man involving a forbidden stay over discovered by mom and her man, causing much stress on the kids.

So it was back to my island home to stay with Mary until I find a new place. I felt silly giving up my place here of nearly 4 years for only a few months-but at least I escaped most of the worst of the island winter. I just rented a nice place on Convent Street, about two blocks from my old home. I move in next Friday.

It has been nice to spend time with Mary, but it is not tension free. We have been dining and dancing-she is a great dancer and cook, a truly lovely lady. She really wants me just to stay here with her, but our personal situations complicate that at the moment. I need some alone time to regroup and decide if I am here to stay of if I will try again to move south, with better planning this time.

There is a possibility I may just stay on the island. Its affordable and beautiful, and I had a real homecoming celebration from the folks at the dance clubs, my neighbours-even the store clerks. Such a small town. Deep with many sorrows but also a place of great beauty. Once again I will miss various outdoor events with my son, so long planned, that just never seem to happen even with all of our maximum efforts.

So a few months here or a few years? Maybe my kids will visit me this summer here.

Shel has emailed me with car trouble. She does not yet know that I am back on the island. For better or worse I am going to remain incognito until I am fully established in my new place. Mary has hinted that I have no place else to go-giving her a powerful upper hand at the moment-for two weeks less a day-then I am back in my own place and free to sort things out.

I would not have returned here directly without Mary. Perhaps not at all. But I am still unsure about our long-term situation and I feel I may be over-playing my hand a bit just to get along until April 3. For sure I am stuck here until that time-another blissful prison.

After I am back in my own place I can sort out the next couple of months. I have serious decisions to make before June 1. More on that later. Sure miss the kids. Visit interruptous.

The End of February

Just trying out my laptop on battery power only. Its early morning here in the mountains with a warmish springlike rain just before the sunrise. My compatriot's have already stirred and gone to work. Simon is up and awaiting his nearly hour long trip on a bus to school. AHH...ruralia. I am not sure that I could ever really go back to a city, although completely comfortable there too. Especially after living in Summerside and always longing for these mountains of my youth;

Yes I am somewhere South of Wyalusing and Towanda...but not that far in terms of fishing or basic philosophy. My mission today in this warm rain is to use the old fishing map and find some new haunts near here to explore.

I was overjoyed yesterday to find, in a small town near here, a place to buy worms and a car wash. The town is Mount Pleasant Mills. Just South of the famous trout stream, Penn's Creek.

It was sure good to wash off 2 months worth of salt The removal of that surficial outrage is also prophesy. So I am here as it seems until I can complete the circle - the Yellow Breeches of my youth in Huntsdale. Opening day of trout season 49 years after I first walked that stream and took trout with my father. The question remains will I walk alone, as Shel has suggested or shall I go with my son and new friends?

Oh-the battery lasts 15 minutes.

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.

Second Storm

A second snow and ice storm passed quickly by leaving a few inches of snow. It seemed so trivial compared to the storms of last winter on the island. I admit to being a little isolated here among the mountains of my distant past. All here consumed with work, lack of work, relationships or lack thereof. I guess I haven't been very good company as I am somber and a bit reclusive here.

I was up the past few nights thinking of Shel, Mary, my kids, and sister. Joey did send an email. He is upset still over his girlfriend and his hectic schedule. I surely do miss him, but I am putting no pressure on him to drive the almost 40 miles here to visit in addition to his busy life. He suggested that I come down and visit with Lexi this weekend.

Mary and I talked a bit today after nearly a week. She scolded me and warned that Windsor (our crazy pal from the "Wing") said my calls would get less frequent and I would finally disappear. Mary does do the female thing with vague accusations and mild guilt trips, but she misses me and has never tried to manage an "international" friendship before. OK its more than a "friendship".

I have made and listened to some of my audio recordings. The CBC Compass news show is on via Livestream each night and I admit to it being emotional to watch it. Boomer Gallant is the weather guy. I used to watch him do live weather out my window on Central Street.

Mary said she is still going out to dance with Eva and sometimes Wilbur, but the rest of my "Rock and Roll Girls" no longer go to the Wing. In an odd way I think I broke that group up after my time with Judy Griffin and later more serious time with Mary. The Lady Mary.

I miss that simple place. It was nice being in a real town with people and active social events like our weekly dances. No such thing here that I can see. This is harsher. Chilly compared to all of the people I knew in Summerside. I asked about Manny Gallant and Germain Fougere but they also have disappeared.

So I wait. Stay or go as the old story goes. I told Mary that I was having second thoughts about leaving PEI-that it might have been fine just to visit for Christmas and then to go home. Joey warned me that I may not see much of him. But I had to try.

Shel has disappeared. I even miss her nasty mails-at least I knew she was OK. OH-I could find out everything if I snooped her out. I was thinking since it is almost payday I may hear from her-the pattern since late 2004. At least then she put on a happy tune and it was pleasant to pay for her apartment, phone, food and whatever there. I really thought it my duty then and that she may decide I am an OK guy anyway. That all really hurts-but I had to know the truth no matter what the cost. I think I now do.