Mid November Chill

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.

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 enthusiasm to spend time with me, much to the chagrin 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.

Still always brewing as roasting chicory on my cerebrum at this time of year are thoughts of the south, kids, Yankee-land. American Thanksgiving is November 25th this year, my birthday. What fine memories that imagined within the memory of a wonderful pre-life . But I will remain 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.

We keep abreast via telephone and face book 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'.
I often think of my elusive X wife and wonder if and when she will return here to be with her theoretical husband. 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.

So its an expansion on hobbies old and new, exercise now that I am finally up to it and the re embrace of a more healthy fresher diet and avoidance of negative and depressed dypsomanical club members hell-bent on moral turpitude and hepatic cellular death.

Yes, I will have to try some smelt fishing when the ice comes to the harbour. Yes, indeed!

October

This time of year is very special to me here on the island. Sometimes we would fore go a summer trip to the maritimes and wait for fall. In those years, we would usually stay at Indian Brook on Bras D'or on Cape Breton Island. Then, often reluctantly, we would spend some time here on this island.

The wonderful colours of the Cabot Trail, the warm people...the crisp air and maybe some fresh mackerel 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 D'or. Here we usually stayed at Cavendish near the park in a little old-fashioned motel cabins called the White Eagle, in the National park here.

Summerside 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 Yankee friend".

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.

There has been little word from my remaining family except for the occasional "facebooking". It seems letters and phone calls are out of date, and that is where people socialize and chat now. I danced with Mary 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.

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 Rockies, or just drive. A decision unmade again as it has been for me this time of year here.

Thus, I await an inspiration, a reason..raison d'etra". 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.

Mid September..already

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 solstice sun wanes.

So spirits wane also. The smiles are smaller now among the indigenous and the off-landers are gone back to work and school and South to what they all may think is a type of predictable life. Art Linkletter said "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans". A good quote.

The routine here of weekends dancing with Mary are now dissonant. 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.

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 Spanish from dusky girls and the smell of roasting anchos 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.

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.

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 bait fish, or capelin, it is worth considering.

It is not the Kenai river nor King Salmon fresh from the arctic into a raging Alaskan river, nor is it trolling for Wahoo off Maui...but at least the Wahoo 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.

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"?

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.

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."

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.

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.

Perhaps it is fear of life, or just fear of fear. A life with fear is no life at all.

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.

August on the Island

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, barbeque's and new friends. Released from various restrictive relationships-of all kinds, I am finally able to enjoy my toys, truck, friends and fishing gear.

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.

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.

camping in my old yellow tent with the ancient blazer along side was a sure source 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 as I drove it off the lot in Maryland that summer 20 years ago.

I do miss my children It is wonderful that we have facebook and other computer resources to keep in touch. Perhaps someday they will visit me on this island. Someday, when they are free of what constrains them.

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.

The mackerel are showing up at the wharf downtown. I sure enjoy catching them as they come insure to attack schools of small bait fish, called capelin. 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 saba, or the Japanese sushi word for raw mackerel. Then I miss Shel, as she loved sushi. Far from the meat and potatoes of Colorado, I introduced her to Japanese food at the Fish Market restaurant in Phoenix. She became an avid devotee.

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 compels yet to leave. That day will come-but I am surely in no hurry. Yes, a very difficult place to leave.

What a wonderful day to spend a Linkletter 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 strait-and die. I could lose the hungry deer flies. They are helping me with my manual dexterity.

Mostly tourists 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.

The birds seem happy. A song sparrow kept visiting me and proclaiming on the sole light post near the shore.

Here I cleaned the "cottage" and await the big rains forecast for tomorrow. Time for haircut and laundry...a non-beach day.

Paradise lost...found..lost again..found again...what a fantastic experience.