Going Home

I do believe that I have mentioned that I went back to Ontario at the end of June. I've been harping on that one for a while now!! While I was there, I got to do something I haven't done for ages. I got to go back 'home'.
I know. It's only brick, and mortar, and trees. We all have that place I'm guessing. For me it was Caledonia. That big old house symbolizes a ton of stuff for me. It's taken me this long to actually be able to think about looking at the pictures and finding words to go along with it.
Many things are important about that town, that bridge, that street and that house.
The town reminds me a lot of Charlottetown. Maybe that's why I feel so comfortable here. There's an 'older' part of town, which boasts of the most beautiful, character-filled homes ever. There's a newer part of town, further from the water, just like Caledonia. You can walk down the street and people honk their horns at you. It just somehow has that feel that people know you and you should know everyone. My kids run to the corner store, just like my sister and I ran to the 'Magic Mart'. It just feels homey.


The night that the picture of the bridge was taken, it was the perfect weather. Dusk was just coming on, and that is an amazing shot of the Caledonia Bridge. Town was divided by this side of the bridge and 'that' side of the bridge. That is my high school, and in order to get to it, I had to cross the bridge every day. I remember when I used to cross it on my lunch hours too, in order to call my first boyfriend on his lunch break. Crazy kids!! hahaha
That house used to seem like a mansion. I had two windows in my room, one of which is the top left corner when you look face on at the house. We did puppet plays for the neighbourhood kids over the banister of the verandah. I remember the living room was huge. At least it felt like it to me. I remember practicing my piano lessons and imagining people dancing like in a ballroom. Silly now to think that way, but I guess whatever gets you through those long practice sessions.
Anyway, that was home. Still is, in some way.
Tons of great memories. So glad I had the chance to live there. I think this would be the closest I can come in trying to give my kids the same opportunity. I can't do it justice, but at least I will have tried.




So, here is where the thanks go. I have to thank my dear friend Paul, who got dragged through town, listening patiently while I kept saying, "You're not tired yet, are you?" and "This is where I did this", "my babysitter lived there", "Theresa lived right there!!" hahaha Patience of Job. Paul is also the kind soul who taught me the proper way to take a picture. I did not realize that you must give yourself whiplash (in reverse) by pulling the camera tightly away from you, while the strap is around your neck, and hold it very carefully so that you don't get the fuzzy pictures. Who knew that all you photographers out there actually had such strong necks!! I appreciate your time Paul. Thanks so much.