For Prince Edward Island

This is the last time I'll lament our time on the Island...promise...

On the last day of our PEI summer holiday, my son gave me the gift of time and gratitude. The sun sparkled on the bay while gulls glided with the breeze. It was the kind of afternoon that seduces us into staying just a little longer. Instead of running around the yard, Kieran asked me if we could sit on the porch swing. I cast a reluctant glance at the cleaning and packing awaiting me in the cottage, but I agreed. We climbed up and snuggled in.

We rocked for over an hour. Certain he'd fallen asleep, I checked him several times but he just watched the sea. As my gaze followed his, I thought of our days spent on that shore-- playing in the sand, swimming with cousins, searching for starfish--and I realized the importance of place.

Prince Edward Island isn't my home--at least it's not my childhood home. I read the entire Anne of Green Gables series as a girl and I always vowed I'd one day live there. I didn't actually go until I was twenty-six after meeting my future husband, who happened to be an Islander. Since then, we've returned together every year, save one. Last summer, our son was too unwell to travel so we couldn't go. Sitting on that swing, I realized how much the island is under my skin and how it has been a place of healing for our family.

Missing a year made this homecoming more profound. Cousins were that much taller, the sparse raspberry canes along the shore now flourished, and the beaches had become even more alluring. There are things about the place that I would recognize were I suddenly dropped there blindfolded: the fresh energy of salt air, the applause of birch leaves in the breeze, the squawk of a blue heron at sunset.

Both my husband and I have travelled. Travel invites us to know ourselves and to understand others. We return changed and inspired. But it's just as important to be home every now and then. Home allows children to perceive the nuance of place--trees grow, shorelines erode, people change. Home reminds us of who we are and grounds us before we move on.

I thank PEI for all those things that bring us home. I thank PEI for the brilliant contrast between green grass, red sand, and blue water. I thank PEI for the primroses and moon snails. I thank PEI for the taste of mussels and blueberries-- just not together.

Most of all, I thank PEI for family and friends. Because, while the landscape pulls me back, makes me want to plant myself in that now familiar soil, the people both welcome us and bid us a farewell with the promise that we always have a safe place to land.

Maybe Kieran wanted one last chance to take it all in, this place that has become such a part of him. I needed that as much as he did.

Thanks again, dear island.

The Lasts

last story time

last sunset

last morning

(saying good-bye to the sea in various states of undress)

The Beach

Is it possible to grow tired of the beach?

NOPE

Winning Some

I never did seal the grout on this table, which means it's vulnerable to stains and such. I made the tiles when I was taking pottery at the college and they each represent a part of PEI. The tree is an image of the crooked tree that hung out over our bank--it's more of a memorial now since the tree was cut down...without my consultation. That's another story.



The centre mosaic is obviously the sun and then, fish. I painted the wood ivory and then distressed it with a palm sander. The point is, I love this table. I'm proud of it. It was a lot of work but I took something that was a little rough and gave it a new meaning.

I must admit that I was actually admiring it this morning while I sat on the couch knitting and drinking coffee. My latest gossip magazine (guilty pleasure) was waiting to be read and my laptop had yet to be turned on. The happy sounds of Kieran's play narrative filled the room.



Somewhere in my happy daydream/admiration, I heard Kieran call me. I guess I wasn't prompt enough in my answer because, before I realized his intent, he marched over and dumped my coffee all over the table.



I managed to save my knitting and laptop. The magazine was ruined and the rug got stained. With the help of my little mischief-maker, the table was salvaged after a good scrub. My lovely, relaxing morning was turned upside down in an instant and I looked at my son wondering what exactly makes him tick to do such a thing. I remember thinking that it was going to be a bad day. And I wondered if my beautiful child was a sociopath. Well, not really. But I was darn mad.

Well, this is how the day ended. We all headed to the beach for a walk after supper and Kieran chased his father's shadow the whole way. It wasn't a bad day after all. And my table is just fine...even if the rug isn't.

You win some...you know the rest...

SUMMER

It's been a frantic and stressful time on vacation. My days are packed full of chores, appointments, and activities.

For instance...

picking wild raspberries and enjoying them with some wine

hauling the canoe up on shore after a paddle (okay, Mike does that part)

casting on


eating mussels (oh, and is that wine again?)


watching sunsets

As you can see, the intesity is exhausting. I'm not sure how I'll recover. Any ideas?

With the mussels, raspberries, and apples, I keep wondering how long I can exist without going to the grocery store.

Island Images

Now that my novel is finished and has been sent off into the agent/publishing world for consideration, I find myself missing the daily question of what my characters will do next. I still have lots of images that my friend, Tina, took for me this summer since we couldn't get to the island. They served as inspiration for me when I needed that sense of place and just couldn't picture it.

the church in Donaldston

a red island road

The Beginning...

Big day today. I'm sending out the first of my agent queries. I have no idea what will happen because I've never done this before. Sending a complete short story to a literary magazine is very different from creating a synopsis and pitching an idea. What's exciting is that after all this work, I'm finally sending my novel out into the world. I also know that I'm resiliant enough to take whatever is sent back...even if it's the sound of crickets chirping.


Here's historical Dalvay by the Sea. It's where Anne recites "The Highwayman" (and Gilbert givers her a standing ovation--sigh) in the film Anne of Green Gables. I love this place--it has such a "summer by the sea" feeling, which is what I tried to capture in my book.



Thanks again to Tina Dougan for taking these photos when I'm not able to be on the island.

100 Mile Diet

Well, the Cameron-Shea family is officially participating in the 100-Mile-Diet for COGECO Kingston. We met with them yesterday and we'll film in September. While the majority of our food is already locally-grown, we're taking it a step futher to give up coffee (gasp!), beer (double gasp), and chocolate (faint...). Other things that will be a problem are salt, olive oil, and cinnamon. Kieran's gluten-free needs will also call for creativity. It's only seven days.


Thank goodness for Wendy's Mobile Market in Lyndhurst. We order on-line from them once a week and Rick (Wendy's husband) brings everything right into the kitchen. We are able to get local veggies, apples, ice cream, chicken, beef, wild boar, a variety of cheeses, and even bath bombs. It's a great thing. We would probably be more reluctant to participate in this challenge if it weren't for this service. I'll add the link for their fantastic site at the end of this post.


I was just working on a chapter in my novel where the protagonist attends the Charlottetown Famer's Market--here's another photo from my friend, Tina. It's a little dark but it's a favourite stop for me when we're on the island--so much good food! And I like to eat. It's another one of the things I greatly miss about not being on the island, which is why it had to appear in my book.

The book that inspired me to look into local eating more seriously was Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. And, after watching a few episodes of their show on the Food Network, I'm adding Alisa Smith and James MiKinnon's book, The 100 Mile Diet: A Year of Eating Locally to my reading list.



"Eating locally isn't just a fad like the various fad-diets advertised on late-night T.V.--it may be one of the most important ways we save ourselves and the planet." ~David Suzuki


http://www.wendysmobilemarket.com/

Green Grass, Red Sand, Blue Water

My friend, Tina, took this photo at Dalvay Beach on Prince Edward Island. It's the perfect picture to accompany my first post because this is the place that inspired my novel. It pulls everything together: my history with Mike, my love of Kieran, my desire to write.

After watching the sunset here with Kieran last summer, the premise for my story unfolded. I quickly wrote the first three chapters and then let it sit until Janurary. When I needed something for my writers' circle meeting, I dusted it off and continued. Over the past few months, the story has flowed. I can't say the same for the editing process. However, I've been able to refine my characters and story into something tangible.

Now that I'm finishing up my last draft, I'm ready to start looking at publication. As my short stories, poetry and parenting columns slowly appear on the printed page, the number of rejection letters grows exponentially. I know it won't be an easy time, but I am resilient.

Sadly, this is the first year since I met my husband that we won't be travelling to PEI for the summer. Our son, Kieran, had some health issues in the spring that prevented this. It's ironic really, that I've conjured our dear island so vividly in my imagination at a time when I've never felt so far away.

I can picture the herons fishing along the shore. Most of all, I miss my extended family and our friends. There's always next year.