I can hardly believe it. It’s been nearly five years since my husband and I went through with our plan to trade in our old lives and move out of the city.
In August of 2010, we threw caution to the wind and put our home of ten years on the market. Paul kissed me goodbye, drove to his hometown, and began overseeing the gargantuan job of renovating his grandfather’s old two-storey in Bonavista North. When the sale of our house closed near the end of September, Maisie, Vivian and I joined him. We stayed nearby in a friend’s vacant summer home until the bulk of the work was completed.
During the first week of December that year, we finally had enough upgrades done to buy our new appliances, unpack the boxes, and begin to set up house.
Do I have any regrets? Not many. That first winter, I missed living close to my family, and I still wish I could see my children and grandchildren more often than I do. But other than that, I am happy to have relocated here to our home by the sea. Somehow, I don’t think I would have taken up writing the way I have if I’d stayed in the city, so taking this journey to fulfill my lifelong dream has certainly made it all worthwhile.
Besides that, Paul’s dream to return to his boyhood home has come true too. ❤
Looking back now, I think we can both vouch for the old saying: the best journey is the one that takes you home.
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Have you lived to see a dream come to fruition? Or are you working on one for the future?
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. 🙂
L to R: David, Paul, Julie, and KevinThirteen-year-old Paul
These days, few of us experience the old-fashioned pleasure of receiving a letter by standard mail. So imagine my joy to find, tucked inside a Christmas card from my aunt in the U.S., a handwritten note, along with a handful of photos sent to her from my father.
She writes:
“Dear Jennifer – A note to enclose with these snapshots sent to me many years ago. They are precious to me, but belong in your heart and your home. It was a great adventure that Ralph shared with me over the phone lines. – Lovingly, Irene.”
Discussing this with my aunt recently, she was unable to nail down the year they were taken, but she believes Dad made the trip to Labrador in the mid to late fifties. That would make him, at the youngest, twenty-one, and still single.
An added bonus: his familiar handwriting scrawled on the back of each snapshot. ♥
I have captioned each one with his words.
On Gander Runway
A closer look:
I love his outfit. Lots of layers, warm boots, yet he is wearing a jacket, shirt and tie, and his hair is perfect.
Our plane at Gander before takeoff 4:30 pm
This begs more questions: why did he fly out of Gander and not St. John’s? Who was he with and who took the pictures? Why did he make this trip to Labrador? Unfortunately, we are fuzzy on all the details.
Crossing the bays to HopedaleDeserted shack and our dog-sled at Big Bay between Hopedale and Davis Inlet.At Makkovik with “husky” pups.
No surprise to me at all that Dad would love the little animals!
If only he and I could sit down and have a chat together about his adventure in “The Big Land.” In any case, I cannot put into words how good it feels to see my father’s young face again. ♥
Have you ever gotten mail that made your day?
Is there someone you love and miss with all your heart?
It seems the older I get, the more I treasure the chance to travel around this province. Even when I visit a Newfoundland community I’ve been in before, it’s as if I see it with new and more appreciative eyes.
Earlier this week, I accompanied Paul on one of his little road trips for work, this time on the Burin Peninsula Heritage Run. Our destination was the vibrant town of Grand Bank. I hadn’t been there in over a decade.
It was a rainy trip. But Good Fortune smiled down, the sun came out as soon as we got there, and so did my trusty camera.
The authentic old buildings and heritage architecture I found especially charming. I’ll let the pictures tell the story of what I loved about historic Grand Bank.
The Inn by the Sea Bed and BreakfastThe Thorndyke – Registered Heritage B & B
Harris House…and another Widow’s Walk, a popular feature of long ago fishing communities.
When the fog rolled in over our lounging chairs this afternoon (with us still in them), we counted ourselves lucky we at least had enjoyed an hour of hot, precious sunshine.
You may see some of the fog in the pic below. We put our chairs back in the shed and went inside. But Vivian had other ideas.
She stayed behind in her outdoor room…
Greetings, humans! Maisie here, covering for Jennifer this week while she is away. My sister Vivian was eager to take over again, but Shy Little Me thought I would venture a few steps out of my comfort zone and host the blog for a change.
My sister and I had grown oh-so-bored with staying inside.
After the long, cold and snowy winter we endured in Canada this year, we are welcoming any signs of Spring with gratitude and huge sighs, or in our case,
purrs of relief.
When Vivian and I lived in the city four years ago, we had to content ourselves with the sighting of a robin or two in our backyard to let us know Spring had finally arrived.
Where we live now, there are many, many more signs to watch for and welcome. Not only fat robins with their red breasts, but birds of all kinds grace us with their presence, usually in pairs as they get ready for mating season. And we eagerly await the arrival of the gannets in May, and arctic terns in June. There is something deeply comforting in seeing wildlife return, especially when you spy them huddled in twos, preening or foraging for food together here on Perry’s Point. The seagulls are here as always, dropping and breaking crabs and sea urchins open on the rocks. But now they are joined by a few saddleback gulls. Vivian even spotted a saucy mink the other day!
During the last few days, my sister and I have enthusiastically returned to the great outdoors.
So much to see, to smell, to hear and to taste.
Vivian and I will stay outside almost all day when the summer gets here…
…just like last summer, and the summer before.
Life is good. 🙂
“I coulda hosted. It was my gig. Pfft!”
Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring! What does Spring mean to you?
At long last and according to our milder forecast for the next few days, I don’t have to wear this when I go out for a walk.
There have even been sightings of robins, can you believe it? Could Spring be arriving extra early this year? Or are these poor, confused robins that forgot to fly south?
In any case, I’m happy it is warmer for how ever long it lasts, and thoughts of winter ending at some point (the days are getting longer!) fills me with anticipation. Husband and I are considering a tropical vacay in a couple of months, so that helps me keep warm too, with visions of hot sandy beaches and warm fun-filled nights, and the smell of fruity drinks and suntan lotion by a relaxing pool.
But you know what else helps to keep me warm? My peeps here at WordPress. And as promised, here is a shout-out to my most prolific commenters, a rather diverse group, who also happen to be bloggers too.
TALKTODIANA – Diana is a gal full of wit and wisdom, a friendly, community-minded breath of fresh air whose blog I adore. A fellow Canadian with a lovely sense of humour, Diana always comes up with interesting topics to blog about.
Miniscule Moments of Inspiration –Kath Unsworth is a writer and illustrator from Australia. She pens and does the artwork for children’s books, loves animals, and she never fails to stimulate and encourage me with her creative talent. She is also a wife and mother, and lives and works on a dairy farm.
Almost Spring – Elizabeth is another blogger I follow from the Land Down Under. An introvert like myself, her blog is all about her journey from “we” to “me”, and how her divorce has propelled her into a fascinating study of self-examination and what an individual needs to define and sustain a sense of purpose and wellbeing.
GREENLIGHTLADY – Wendy is another fellow Canadian – from the opposite coast! – who is a photographer extraordinaire and an inspiring poet. She blogs about the beauty of nature and all the things she is thankful for, and is always there with a supportive word.
Seasons Change, and so have I – Carla and I started blogging around the same time and was my first follower. As her blog name attests, she has gone through many changes, even since she started blogging, and I admire her for her honest and forthright views on everything from mental health to current events. She is from Kentucky, USA.
jmgoyder – Julie is a sweetheart of a lady from Australia (what is it with these wonderful Aussie women?) who is a retired Creative Writing and English lecturer. She keeps us inspired with her posts about her husband with advanced Parkinson’s disease, and her teenage son who has just turned twenty. She poignantly shares her life, the highlights and the low moments alike, with her readers. Always a worthwhile read.
For all bloggers out there, is there anyone you know who warms your heart and is deserving of a “bouquet” for being a loyal follower? Or is there a blog you follow you’d love to tell the world about?
Well, what a week it has been around these parts! Old Man Winter in Newfoundland, as it has been for much of the continent caught in the “Polar Vortex,” is baring his teeth and delivering a wallop to most areas, a wallop stronger than any in recent memory. It has made some of us wish we could hibernate until spring, and others long to escape down south for an extended vacation or even retirement.
But the weather has also made some people shine. Like the old expression about when the going gets tough, that is just what was needed when our version of a “perfect storm” arrived: record low frigid temperatures, record amounts of early snowfall, and lengthy bone-chilling blackouts, the like which has not been experienced since 1994. Add a blizzard and our inadequate power infrastructure for our needs today, and you’ve got real trouble.
photo credit: Newfoundland page, Facebook
Sometimes it takes a situation, (or a “crisis,” if I may, Premier Dunderdale) to see who the heroes are, to see who is willing to stop complaining, roll up their sleeves and help wherever help is needed. No matter where any blame lies that contributed to the power problem, I’m the sort of person who prefers to look at the positive side of things whenever possible. I have heard stories of gratitude for those who shovelled, plowed, or dug people out of their homes. I have seen good folks answer the call when warm food and shelter were needed, and still others with wood stoves and propane fireplaces open their homes and offer comfort. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the Newfoundland Power maintenance workers and crews, the snow plow operators, and everyone who worked and is still working tirelessly to return everything back to some semblance of normal.
photo credit: Newfoundland page, Facebook
But it is the personal stories that warm me more than any wood stove can. Like the couple who went ahead with their wedding Saturday night in spite of the blackout and the freezing temperatures (link below). No, perhaps it was far from ideal, but they have quite a story to tell their children and grandchildren one day.
Even my daughter and son-in-law were up to the challenge this weekend, when they decided not to postpone our granddaughter’s sleepover birthday party at home, but went ahead with the event in the dark. Son-in-law even barbecued hot dogs outside in the freezing cold for them. And the party was a success! These are the things lasting memories are made of.
So whether this makes you think Newfoundlanders are hardy, or just plain foolhardy, that is entirely beside the point. All I know is the warmth of the human spirit is alive and well in our little corner of the continent.
Do you have any storm or power outage stories to share? How about one with an unexpected positive spin?
My husband and I are enjoying our second week away from home, spending most of our time in my birthplace, St. John’s, the capital city of Newfoundland. This past weekend, however, we took a short trip to Grates Cove.
Entering Grates Cove – jenniferkellandperry.comView from the walking trail running along the cliffs and barrens – jenniferkellandperry.com
This little community is the most northerly one on the Avalon Peninsula, and is my mother’s hometown.
Mom as a schoolgirlMom, out and about 😉
My father’s maternal roots are also here, so most of my relatives originated in Grates Cove. Some of them still live here, and others have summer homes.
Grates Cove is actually a National Historic site, recognized for its acres of rock walls.
From the last of the 1700’s to the early 1900’s, local residents used the rocks to define spaces within their environment. The rocks were thrown, stacked and piled into more than 160 acres of land to set aside fields, create gardens, store vegetables, protect livestock and to use as cemeteries. (source: beyondbaccalieu.com)
beyondbaccalieu.combeyondbaccalieu.comBeautiful day on Saturday – jenniferkellandperry.com
Like many of the coastal communities in our province, Grates Cove was a desirable place because of its prolific fishing grounds. First settled in 1790, its population has shrunk over the years, but it still supports the livelihood of a number of local fisher-persons, and is a popular tourist destination.
Many of these tourists have loved the place so much, they bought property of their own and put down roots. It has been reported that Grates Cove has the highest per capita in all of Newfoundland of “Mainlanders” buying up houses to live.
If you are ever in the area and get a chance to visit this picturesque little fishing village, I am sure you will understand why the “come-from-aways” fell in love with it and made up their minds to stay.
jenniferkellandperry.com
Have you ever visited tiny, out-of-the-way communities like Grates Cove? Are any of your relatives still living in places such as these?
Disclaimer: No wildlife was harmed during the creation of this photo shoot.
My son came for a visit here in Newtown this past week. On one of the days, I went along to take pics of him and my husband playing beach golf. This beautiful sandy beach is only a few hundred yards from our house. The weather was cool and windy, but I liked the way the photos turned out.
This is the sandbar they were aiming for.Watching the big boys playI love the sand ripples
“Who’s your step-daddy?” 🙂
Another good one!
Our neighbour, Ben drops by to watch.
“Is anyone here a marine biologist?” (just kidding 😉 )Time to collect the balls…Balls that didn’t hit the sandbar are easily found because the water is shallow (and surprisingly warm!).I love the action and the waves in this one.
Jennifer's Journal 