I was reminded this morning at breakfast with a bunch of pilots, of the drum clinics I used to go to in high school back home in Toronto.  The excitement in the air was palpable as AC controllers, owners and private pilots chatted jovially about the aviation-related social life on the island, before heading out on their Sat morning errands, or--in some cases -- going to fly, despite the somewhat marginal weather.  Read more here, and check out some great photos of flying on PEI!!!!

I heart PEI.  And although I enjoy Cow's ice cream and partake as heavily in Anne culture as any other tourist, I think I am finally moving beyond the usual visitor fare, and into some of the more subtle nuances of Island summers. 

Drumming in my "new" music cabin, for example, brings me great joy, especially since discovering the ability to plug into my iPod and play along to the 80s rock pounding in my headset!  Or sitting around the campfire with a neighbour, watching the flames dance in the fire pit and subconsciously enjoying the comfortable geometry of a well-made muskoka chair.  Or swinging gently in the hammock under my deck on a cool PEI morning, snuggled into 3 quilts while listening to the faintly tinkling windchimes singing their bellsong from the corner of the screened-in porch above, and gazing out over the wildflower meadow  to the ocean and dunes in the distance.

Ahhhhh, I heart PEI!!!

Alex came with me to Hunter River last night to pick up a used set of Tamas.  Together with my delicious Paiste and Zildjians, it makes for an acceptable kit.  SO much fun to finally be playing again!!!!

Met a fellow today who makes Muskoka chairs.  For years he ran a deep sea fishing outfit in North Rustico, but now his son and grandson run that show, and Alfred makes chairs.  Lots of them!

Used to be Alfred made about 10 chairs a day.  Then he had three heart attacks!  Now Alfred only makes about 3 chairs a day.  These are the three we bought for our PEI place.... apparently Alfred's grandson is going to come by tomorrow and deliver them.  Can't wait to try them out around the fire pit!

It seems not unreasonable whenever I fly to PEI to bring along a  "little" something for our friends out here on the island.  A “Big Rudy” is a giant rye bread, baked to perfection in a German bakery in Toronto, and not available on PEI.  The one I picked up this morning from the Dimfelmayer bakery in Etobicoke was still warm!

Ahhh, but I always forget how unwieldy this big bread is in an airplane....

Once safely through customs, the loaf still needs to be lugged to the gate, and installed securely in the overhead bins above.  Not an easy task, when the overhead bins above your particular seat are already full of “real” luggage.  :) 

After the usual barrage of “wow, that’s a big loaf of bread” commentary has been endured, some kind soul offers to take her purse dwn with her in the seat down below, so that I don’t have to travel with Big Rudy at my feet.  The heavy loaf is lifted by another kind passenger into the now available space in the overhead bin, and I slide into my seat.

Big Rudy the Third is about to land, and will find his new owners/eaters  tomorrow night, after spending the day with us in the kitchen at St Pete’s Harbour.

After a wickedly hot week in Toronto, buried under a mountain of interesting but voluminous marking, I am finally off to PEI!!!  Trevor and the boys arrived Tuesday afternoon, and by all accounts, the cool ocean breeze off the east coast promises to be a welcome break from today's 38 degree celsius (feels like 49!) in Toronto!

Stay tuned for more reports inthe coming weeks from St Pete's Harbour........

"Hoerst Du die Grillen Zirpen?" ("Do you hear the crickets?") It was a question often asked of me as a child, as we took an evening stroll along the water's edge at the newly opend "Landfill Park" (Humber Bay East ), or camped at one of Ontario's many campgrounds.  My mother and Omi, both being rather heavily into the nature of things, were keenly aware of the natural world around them, and would frequently comment on the growth of some plant, or the sound of some creature great or small in the vicintiy, or marvel aloud at the cloud formations or the colour of the sky or the sound of the wind in the trees.

To me, such observations were not remarkable.  These audio tracks played constantly in the background of my daily life.  And yet, as an adult, I am suddenly aware of their impact on me as an observer of the world around me.  My family's accuity with nature is reflected in my own interactions with my surroundings.

Last night we biked home along the Lake, past some tall grasses and noisy, chirping crickets.  And in my mind, I heard my mother's voice:  "Hoerst Du die Grillen Zirpen?"

In my household, you can get a massage for two bucks! 

Don't be misled, though, but the apparent value: You see, the service providers (my 7-year-old twins) seem more interested in making money than providing a high quality service. 

Today, the boys decided to each do one leg, and we introduced the concept of cream.  Unfortunately, estimatation is not yet a strongly developed skill.  The result was waaaay too much cream all over my legs, which subsequently found its way onto the bedsheets.  "It's glubby!", announced Twin A joyfully, while Twin B left his post to go wash his hands off ("too creamy").

The whole affair had not gone on longer than about 3 minutes when already the young masseurs wanted to know "can we get paid now"?  This cry, or a varient thereof, severly impeded the "massage" (of one could even call it that), for the next 2 and a half minutes.  After explaining several times that it was not $2 worth of massaging yet, I finally gave up and just paid them to get out.  Really, I wouldn't classify the experience as "relaxing".

$2... I guess you get what you pay for!