Getting to the little cove was not always easy, as we ourselves did not always have a vehicle and even when we did, our Dad was working away from home. I know sometimes I could catch a ride with Din when he would stop by our house on his way to or from St. John’s….
In my mind I saw his face and heard his voice. Saw the float plane land in the harbour Pull up to the wharf, deliver his remains. Knelt and said a prayer in his mother’s living room Just like me, he was only nine. As I walked among the stones. My younger sisters and I…
Once, while I was visiting with Nan in the little cove, the people decided to have a ‘time’ to raise some money for the church. Now I was somewhat confused as I really didn’t know what that meant. Most places have what they call a garden party, or a festival, or even a bazaar, like…
I’m standing on the Head Like I did so many times before When I was little and staying with my Nan Something scrapes my ankle, I look down I’m standing in a mound of blackberry bushes My mind goes to when I was small To when I used to pick these tiny berries So Nan…
Three brothers lived in the little cove John, Will and Mike were their names. They fished together all their lives Each one possessed a talent of his own Which, combined with the others, helped Secure a livelihood for their families. John was the Skipper. It was he Who decided where the trap was set. It…
It’s late of a summer evening The news is over and the rosary said Time for all young boys to be in bed I walk upstairs to my room It’s at the head of the stairs to the left. Nan is still doing something downstairs Like she does every night before bed I watched her…
It began like any other day in the cove. I ate rolled oats for breakfast with tea. I looked out the front room window to see if my friend Felix was out and about. Lately, he and I were spending our time playing one-on-one hockey on the pathway between his house and my nan’s. We…
Come along with me, a journey we will take don’t worry, the time for the journey is short. Just down this little narrow lane to the sea Sure you can see the water from here, just look up. I’ll point out a place or two along the road, Just so you’ll know it wasn’t always…
We borrow Larry Poor’s truckly, Nan calls it It’s a homemade wooden wheelbarrow With a wooden wheel wrapped with a metal band An old hoop from a beef barrel, perhaps. We head down the lane to the beach Down below, Nan always calls it The wind has been up these last few days There’s probably…
Every year when I was in the little cove, Nan and I would make a trip to Grates Cove, not to shop, as we did many times, but for something different. Nan had lost two sons when they were very young. Dominic was just twelve years old when he died in 1926. Benedict was fourteen…
