Earlier this fall, Paul and I visited the Eastport Peninsula in the central part of Bonavista Bay. With an economy that traditionally focused on its rich natural resources, it has become one of Newfoundland’s most popular tourist destinations. The peninsula is home to sandy beaches, motels, cottages, campgrounds, bed & breakfasts and inns, and is part of The Road to The Beaches tourism region.
This pretty peninsula extends from Terra Nova National Park and follows the coastline along Newman Sound to the south, around the community of Salvage, around Salvage Bay to the east and then following Damnable Bay, Morris Channel, Fair and False Bay, Bloody Reach and Northeast Arm on the north.
Don’t you love the funny place names?
After Paul finished his work in Eastport and before we retreated to our cabin for the night, we took a drive out to the farthest point of the peninsula. This drive brought us through Salvage, population 174. Most of the residents there are retirees.
Canadian radio host Michael Enright calls the 9 kilometre walk from Salvage to Eastport “the most beautiful in the world.” Even though it was on the damp side during our visit, I could certainly see why he calls it that. With its peaceful winding road lined with trees, foliage and gorgeous, tidy properties, I could also see why someone would choose to spend their retirement years there.
Of course being a fan of all things feathery,
I had to stop to get up close and personal with the lovely ducks in the area.
I told Paul – and the ducks – that I would love to return to the Park next summer. A longer stay in this area of the island is a highly anticipated holiday for me when the weather warms up again.
Greetings and meows, dear peeps and pets! Maisie here, guest hosting on Jennifer’s blog today.
Townie Cats
I thought it was high time I shared a little “cat tale” with you from five years back.
It was the Fall of 2010 and my sister Vivian and I, both three years old, had recently moved around the bay to Newtown with Jennifer and Paul. Up until then, we’d been raised as indoor city cats who rarely went outside unless it was in the backyard under vigilant watch by our owners.
backyard fun
While our soon-to-be permanent home on Perry’s Point was undergoing restoration and renovations, our little family had to bide our time in Mike Perry’s summer-house over near Barbour Tickle. As the weeks passed and our owners grew eager and impatient to move to the Point, they told us that once we got there, we would have the freedom to roam the area and come and go as we wished. Could such an incredible dream actually come true for a couple of city-dwelling felines like us?
hanging out at Mike’s
One sunny afternoon, Jennifer and Paul let us outside in Mike’s garden to stretch our legs. They stayed with us as we explored the bank of the Tickle and were pleased that we didn’t try to wander away. So the next day they let us out again. This time however, they didn’t keep such a close eye on us and that’s where the trouble started.
When they decided to let us back inside, lo and behold, they only found one cat: yours truly. My sister Vivian had disappeared. I watched through the window as they called and called to my wayward sibling, but to no avail. As the day passed into evening, their worry grew more and more palpable.
Jennifer and Paul went off to search the neighbourhood. They found no sign of her. When she still hadn’t returned by the next morning, they became frantic, and took off to search for her again, singing out Vivian’s name until their voices grew hoarse. Later, to Jennifer’s horror, Paul found a ragged strip of fur on the bank of the Tickle that looked a lot like Vivian’s striped tail. Now it appeared that foul play might be involved. Had a dog attacked her? Or a rabid mink? Terror and grief filled our hearts at the possibility.
Jennifer was devastated. I heard her say they were stupid to let us outside, that she hated Newtown, and she wished we had never moved at all. I did what I could to console her and Paul, but even though I stepped up the affection it didn’t seem to help. I missed Vivian too and roamed from room to room, mewing my tiny mew. This was also the time I started the practice of sitting up in a kitchen chair and resting my chin on the table. In this pose I would gaze with sadness at my grieving owners, wishing there was something I could do.
The days and nights dragged by, the temperatures turned colder, and our hopes grew dimmer. Halloween came and went. Someone said they saw a cat that matched Vivian’s description way out on the branch road. Hope flared that she was still alive, but searches proved fruitless. Jennifer kept going out for walks, calling Viv’s name, but these investigations usually ended in tears. That strip of fur was the evidence that maybe she wasreally dead gone over that rainbow bridge after all.
where Vivian played until she went missing
Nineteen days had passed. I have to admit at this point I gave up hope. What is a kitty to do?
It was November 12th. Jennifer and Paul were watching the evening news, when we all heard a distinct “meow” coming from outside the window. Jennifer bolted from the couch and ran to the front door. Paul said, “It can’t be Vivian!”
When Jennifer swung the door open, she told us later she was afraid of what she might see. A strange cat? Vivian with her tail missing?
But in waltzed Vivian, her white fur grey with dirt, her tail intact. She cried and cried, her feeble meows filling the house. I went over to smell her. She didn’t smell like my sister and I hissed at her as if she was a stranger. But our owners were overjoyed. Their missing kitty came back after almost three weeks!!
“We thought she was a goner, but the cat came back, she just couldn’t stay away!”
She’d lost weight, was hungry and thirsty, but otherwise fine. She stank of wood smoke, so we think she might have kept warm under someone’s shed with a wood stove or had been barred in. Paul gave her a sponge bath in the tub while she purred the entire time. She barely left his side for the next 24 hours. She was so weak, she could only eat small amounts of food until she regained her strength after many days.
Needless to say, we didn’t get to go outdoors anymore, not until we finally moved to Perry’s Point. By then it was winter, so we didn’t want to stay out at all because of the cold and the unfamiliar roar of the ocean and the howl of the wind. By the time Spring arrived, the nightmare of Vivian’s disappearance was a distant memory and we began our outside adventures that to this day have been pleasantly uneventful.
Happily, Jennifer went back to liking Newtown. I don’t think Vivian ever forgot her ordeal because she’s never dared to stray far from home again. We think as well that the terrible experience is what has made her a much needier cat than I.
As for that ragged strip of fur, well, to this day it remains a mystery.
Selfies and the people who take a lot of them often get a bad rap. Here is a refreshingly different perspective on the topic from a blog called The Belle Jar :
One of the first composition principles a student of photography learns is the rule of thirds.
Storytelling, too, can rely on the rule of three, using repetitionof a part of the storyto build and then resolve tension.
But what about the number three applied to life and people?
When it comes to a trio of children, the general rule is usually FUN!
Born into a family of three children, I already know this.
Of course, I also know the mischief three little people can get up to.
I was looking after my grandchildren one day, when they and their friend asked me if they could paint their faces. Thinking that the girls, being older, had the good judgement not to use markers, I said “Sure, go ahead.”
Off they went to their playroom. To make a long story short, it took quite a bit of soap and elbow grease that night to erase most of the wonderful face art by marker (so my daughter informed me). Our little boy ended up sporting green eyebrows for a couple of weeks!
Oh dear. My bad.
The moral of the story? Grandmas can make boo-boos sometimes too.
Fun is not limited to children, of course. Get the right three adults together and laughter will surely ensue.
When that trio includes my husband and his sister Julie,
who both love hamming it up for the camera, fun is guaranteed.
Three’s a crowd? Not around here. We just needed more wine.*
“There is something magical about three, you know – a trio is tight and nicely economical.” ~ Ian Williams
“If two wrongs don’t make a right, try three.” ~ Laurence J. Peter
“To succeed in life, you need three things: a wish bone, a back bone and a funny bone.” ~ Reba McEntire
What trio comes to your mind when you think of fun and camaraderie?
Luminous: radiating or reflecting light; shining, bright.
Overlooking Barbour Tickle on a brilliant autumn day
☀️
Winter sunset on Perry’s Point
☀️
The shores off the Point bathed in milky sunlight
Direct observation of the luminous essence of nature is for me indispensable. – Robert Delaunay
Be luminous. Don’t adapt yourself to the circumstances around you but change them to be better. Always take your sunshine wherever you go. – Islam Elnady
I believe there is luminosity hiding in the shadow of the mundane. And things that hover on the periphery of our vision. If that’s magic, then I believe in it. – Natasha Mostert
I love this little story because it embodies my outlook on how we need to enjoy life today. Success doesn’t have to be a future, “pie-in-the-sky” notion of something to strive for or wait for, but what we love and cherish about our lives in the present.A Simple Life
A businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The businessman complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied only a little while.
The businessman then asked why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs. The businessman then asked, but what do you do with the rest of your time? The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take a siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos; I have a full and busy life, señor.”
The businessman scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and I could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats; eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the processor and eventually open your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually New York City where you would run your expanding enterprise.”
The Mexican fisherman asked, “But señor, how long will this all take?” To which the businessman replied, “15-20 years.” “But what then, señor?” The businessman laughed and said, “That’s the best part! When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.” “Millions, señor? Then what?” The businessman said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take a siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”
The fisherman, still smiling, looked up and said, “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”
– Author Unknown
What is your idea of success? Do you believe you will only find happiness after all your goals are reached? Or are you happy with what you have right now?
Nothing gets me out of bed in the morning quicker than the expectation of savoring rich, delicious coffee.
At least two big, fragrant, caffeine-infused cups are an essential part of my routine and a necessity to get my brain working. Later in the day, however, my beverage of choice is tea, usually of the green variety.
I know; big deal, right? Why am I blogging about something so ordinary?
Because sometimes, something as simple and mundane as your cup of tea or coffee can be elevated to (extra)ordinary, depending on where you are, who bought it or brewed it for you, or who may be around to share the experience.
Sometimes a cup of tea is made extra special when it comes to you as a gift – a pretty mug and coaster in your favourite colour, along with your first infuser, and a yummy variety of loose tea flavours from DAVIDsTEA. (Thank you, Daughter. 🙂 )
Forever Nuts is my new favourite from there. How fitting. 😉
Other times, a cup of coffee can be special when you get to enjoy it in a new locale.
Like the Caribbean!
And that is whether you drink it inside where it’s cool…
…or outdoors in the incredible, tropical heat.
Morning coffee tastes particularly wonderful in Rome…
Of course, when in Rome, it should be espresso, shouldn’t it?
Perhaps cappuccino? Nope. I stick to old, reliable Caffé Americano– style.
Java on the balcony of your room in Cannes also tastes pretty darn special.
And during a dinner cruise on the Seine in Paris?
The pleasure of a coffee after your gourmet meal is hard to outclass.
But as delightful as you can imagine all of these cups of coffee and tea were, there is one cup of tea I remember the most with enduring fondness. Today in particular, it makes all the others pale in comparison.
It is the memory of Mom and I sipping tea together in the late afternoon sun…
My wedding day, August 1998
…on an incredibly special day, made that much more memorable by an intimate moment shared.
Today also happens to be a noteworthy day for my family. To be able to indulge in a good ol’ cup of orange pekoe tea with my mother today, on her birthday…it doesn’t seem like a great deal to ask for.
But again this year and for the rest of my days, fond memories will have to do.
Happy Birthday, Mom.
Knowing how much you always loved your tea,
this morning I’d like to imagine Dad putting the kettle on
and the two of you enjoying a cup together.
Vivian here, sitting in as guest host to share a worthy little list with you.
I pounced on it during a recent nighttime prowl on the web.
My sister Maisie and I were animal shelter adoptees,
so this is a cause that is naturally near and dear to our kittycat hearts.
Have a “purr”-usal and see why I think these are all terrific reasons to bring a lovely little cat like me or a friendly doggie into your heart and home this winter.
10 Reasons to Adopt a Pet from a Shelter
1. Every pet adopted from a shelter instead of purchased from a pet store or breeder improves the pet overpopulation problem.
2. Adopting a dog or cat from a no-kill shelter can free up space for older or special needs pets that may not find new homes before the end of their natural lives.
3. There are plenty of animals to choose from at most shelters. They come in every age, shape, size, coat color and breed mix, and you can find purebreds at shelters as well.
4. Compared to the cost of purchasing a pet, adopting one from an animal shelter is relatively inexpensive. And if you get a slightly older dog or cat, there’s a good chance he is already fully vaccinated and neutered.
5. Adopting an older pet allows you to skip over the time-consuming, often frustrating puppy or kitten stage of development and takes the guesswork out of what your pet will look like as an adult – size, the thickness and color of her coat, and her basic temperament, for example.
6. Most shelters and rescues do assessments on every pet taken in, to determine things like temperament, whether the pet has any aversion to other pets or people, whether he is housebroken, has had obedience training, etc.
7. Many shelters and rescues also offer lots of new owner support and materials about training, behavior problems, nutrition, grooming and general care.
8. If you have kids, adopting a shelter animal can open their eyes to the plight of homeless pets, teach compassion and responsibility, and show them how wonderful it feels to give a home to a pet that might otherwise live in a cage or be euthanized.
9. An older adoptive pet can be the perfect companion for an older person. Many middle-aged and senior dogs and cats require less physical exertion and attention than younger animals.
10. An adopted pet can enrich your life. The unconditional love and loyalty of a dog or cat can lift depression, ease loneliness, lower blood pressure, and give you a reason to get up in the morning. A kitty asleep in your lap feels warm and comforting. A dog that loves to walk or run outdoors can be just the incentive you need to start exercising regularly.
*list adapted from source: healthypets.mercola.com
So if this sharing prompts just one of you to adopt a pet,
we have helped one animal in need.
And if you share the list, you could too.
As promised, here is Part Two of yesterday’s post, where I continue down memory lane, this time with my son Brian. Unfortunately, most of the photos from his childhood do not include me (I was holding the camera), so I filled in with other loved ones.
Brian with his Nanny & Poppy KellandIn the bathtub. Isn’t he cute? ❤First Birthday – with Corina & DeniseThere you are, Mommy, to clean up my mess – or to feed me cake crumbs 🙂An oldie but goodie – making breadHandsome little Manwith Nan & Pop againCelebrating Grad DayHow big you’ve grown, my boy
~ So ends this two-part series of myBlast From the Past. ~
Of course being a fan of all things feathery,
A Simple Life
Jennifer's Journal 