Introducing Sophie Rae, my son’s new dog. She is a white golden retriever.
Isn’t she a darling? Welcome to our world, little girl! 💕
“Happiness is a warm puppy.” — Charles M. Shulz
A new addition to our family…
Tag: Family
Photo Challenge: Wedding*
Back in the day when my sister was planning her wedding, she asked my children to stand as flower girl and ring bearer. This photo has been on display here in my home ever since.
They are adults now, of course, and my daughter is married with a family of her own.
Of special note, the pandemic didn’t bring all bad news: my son is now engaged!
♥ Cherish Every Moment ♥
*Ragtag Daily Prompt: Wedding!Sunday Snaps: Skipper Alex
Alexander Perry, or Skipper Alex (aka Alec) as he was called by many, was my husband’s grandfather. For those that don’t already know, our home on Perry’s Point for the past ten years is the same home in which Alexander and his wife Mary Jane lived and raised their large family.
Alexander worked as a skipper on a number of fishing schooners. He made many trips to Labrador to fish for cod, which he brought back to Newtown to be cured before it was carried by ship from St. John’s to England and sometimes Jamaica.
Although I never met the man, I’ve heard many good things about him. Skipper Alex was widely admired for his seafaring abilities, his pleasant disposition and gentle spirit, and his flair for storytelling. Locals loved to visit with him—or he with them—to be regaled with colourful tales of his experiences. Of course, having a love of stories myself, I wish I could have known him back in the day.
Below is a letter from Pompano Beach, Florida that Paul found in a box in the attic when we renovated our house. It was written by John Maxwell Barbour, known as Max, the eldest son of Captain Alphaeus Barbour. I imagine the letter meant something to Alex for him to hold onto it like that. He would have been 81 when he received it, and Max, 69. I typed the letter out for easier reading.
Jan. 22, 1969
Dear Skipper Alex,
This carries to you and to your good wife my warm congratulations on your 56th wedding anniversary.
Seeing your excellent picture brought back many memories of my boyhood days in Newtown and of our many contacts, all of which were pleasant and helpful in shaping me for the years ahead. To put it quite plainly, during that period you were one of my favourite adults and without question your personality made a good impression on me.
To my mind’s ear the sound of the guns fired at your wedding still comes thru. I recall the happy occasion well altho I was not old enough then to be a guest.
My wife joins me in sending you and your wife best wishes for continued health and happiness.
Very sincerely,
Max Barbour.
Many thanks to Lester Barbour for giving me some background on Max.
Photo credits: James Maine
Perry Boys – a Look Back
Given the COVID-19 pandemic, I’m having trouble concentrating long enough to compose an original post. So today I’ll share a post from exactly five years ago, a nostalgic look back to simpler times.
When my husband Paul was six years old, he and his family moved from Newtown – the little community in which we live now – to live in the capital city of St. John’s. Their parents relocated so that Paul’s oldest sibling David could attend the Vera Perlin school for his special needs.
On the day of the big move, Paul crawled up under the house – the actual house we live in now – in a show of protest. “Everyone should be able to live where they were born,” he argued through tears, but the die had been cast. He was pulled out and packed into the car with everyone else.
On the very first day at their new school, Paul and his other brother Kevin, who is one year older, decided to walk home from school for lunch, despite being told to stay there and eat the lunch they’d brought. But when they saw other children going home, they wanted to go as well. Unfamiliar with their new neighbourhood, the two boys got lost, and Kevin started to cry.
Brave little Paul tried his best to console his big brother by distracting him. “Don’t cry, Kev. Look at the pigeons,” he said, pointing at a bunch of them as they waddled across the sidewalk, hoping the strange, tame city birds might cheer him up. It worked, and they ended up following a classmate to his house. Between the jigs and the reels, their dad had to leave work and go pick them up.
Let’s go back a couple of years when Paul was four and Kevin was five, to another time the younger boy displayed his wisdom. A new addition to the family of three boys had arrived, and this time, it was a girl! When their mom brought baby Julie Ann home, the boys crowded around to get a look at their new sister. Kevin’s eyes opened wide when her diaper came off to be changed. “Look, Paul,” he said, incredulous. “She ain’t got nar topper!” (penis)
“No, ya foolish,” Paul said, enlightened beyond his years. “She got whatever Mom got.”
Now before you think I’m beating up on my brother-in-law, I’d like to share one more tale. Okay, two. When Paul was about nine and enjoying his summer vacation in Newtown, Kevin saved him from drowning. Paul was diving with some other boys off of Burnt Island, but he tired in the deep water and panicked. Kevin grabbed him by the hair on top of his head and pulled him to safety.
Years later, when Kevin was just beginning his teaching career, he and Paul were driving along in St. John’s one evening. Without warning, Kevin pulled over, stopped the car, and jumped out. He’d spied two teenage boys in a fist fight near the local hockey rink, and he wanted to stop them. Paul watched as he parted the boys, reasoned with them, and ended the scuffle.
It was a day he never forgot. Where most people would just keep going and not get involved, Kevin stepped in and tried to solve the problem. It made Paul really proud of his brother.
Paul confessed there were other boyhood fights where Kev stepped in and rescued Paul himself, fights my husband started and couldn’t finish. I would say he’s grateful for those too. And so am I. 🙂
Originally posted on March 24, 2015 here.
Happy Thanksgiving, Fellow Canadians
This weekend, my sister and her husband came to visit and spend Thanksgiving with us. The weather was lovely on Friday and Saturday and we had a wonderful time together, as always.
Here are a few pics little sis took around the point and gave me permission to share. Thanks, Lynn.
Sunday Snaps: A Saturday in Lead Cove
Last weekend, we took the five-hour drive to Lead Cove, Trinity Bay, where my daughter and her family have their summer house.
I took a few photos on our walk to the beach on Old Lead Cove Road. When I lived there many moons ago, we called it Lead Cove bank.
Lots of dogberries once meant we were in store for a harsh winter, but that belief has since been debunked. Whatevs – they all seem harsh to me.
Of course, Archie came along.
His first time in Lead Cove.
Love this one.
Every year, a little closer to collapse.
An old root cellar,
still used by locals to store vegetables.
An abandoned root cellar figures largely in my new novel,
so I had to grab these shots.
Archie LOVED the freedom of his off-leash run.
This beats a dog park any day!
My kids played on this rocky beach many a time.
“Grand-Paul” describing erosion caused by the sea.
Either that, or he’s found an ostrich egg. 🙂
***
This past week, Paul and I drove to Deer Lake for work,
another five-hour drive each way. So all together,
20 hours of driving since last Friday.
Still, I do like fall road trips around the island!
Introducing Archie!
Meet my newest grand-puppy. My daughter and her family adopted this 1-year-old mix from a shelter on Friday.
They didn’t think his original name suited him, so while brainstorming for a new one, I came up with Archie!
Archie loves his new family. Paul and I were so happy to be in town when he arrived. 😊
Weekend Visit
For the Labour Day weekend, my daughter and her family came for a visit. The weather was gorgeous, so we spent most of our time outside walking sandbars, trails and beaches in the area.
I wish I could take credit for the photography, but these were among the pics my daughter took.
We had a fantastic weekend together,
but I’m greedily hoping for nice weather all month.
I’m not ready for summer to end! Are you?
Friday Fiction – A Special Guest
I’m pleased today to feature a special guest post on Friday Fiction.
My 12 year-old granddaughter Leah wrote the following flash fiction piece for school recently. When her mom showed it to me, I liked it so much, I asked Leah if she would allow me to publish it here on my blog.
Our family’s budding new writer readily agreed. Friends and followers, please take a moment to read it and tell me what you think!
Bart, the security guard, has always loved his job at the amusement park. He loves the greasy smell of deep-fried onions and the sweet smell of cotton candy drifting in the breeze as people happily skip by.
But there was just one thing that made Bart sad. He would always see people of all ages having so much fun with huge smiles on their faces as they jumped with excitement. Bart looked down at his chubby belly sticking out under his uniform with grease stains all over it from his recent lunch break. “I wish I could ride one of the roller coasters,” Bart thought to himself. All he wanted was to be able to ride a roller coaster and know what it was like to be happy and have fun.
Bart decided to make a plan. Maybe he could sneak onto a ride. No one would notice he was gone from his post because no one ever noticed he was there. Except for Trevor.
Trevor was Bart’s very strict boss. If Trevor ever found out about Bart’s plan, he would fire him for good and Bart definitely did not want that to happen. But he wanted to ride a roller coaster so bad, he was willing to take the chance.
Late one day, Bart was ready for action. It was 9:00 pm and the park closed at 10:00 pm. It was dark out so he wouldn’t be seen as easily. Bart slipped off his uniform so that he was left with a T-shirt and a pair of shorts on. He quickly put on his ball cap and ran off to the scariest ride in the park called “The Brain Wash”.
Bart got in line. While everyone was passing their tickets to the tall man standing at the entrance, Bart squeezed past the man without being seen. Bart had made it through!
He was finally on the ride. As the roller coaster was going up the steep hill with a ticking sound, he looked down at everyone below. They all looked like little ants. But there was one face that Bart could pick out. It was Trevor looking up at him with his arms folded across his chest. What if Bart got fired from his job?
Way Back When
I cheated a bit today by sharing two photos.
That’s my mom in St. John’s, May 1968.
The other is her older brother Jack and his son Paul in 1950’s Grates Cove, NL.
“Each photograph is a story captured in a single moment.” – M. Lopez
Jennifer's Journal 