A Lesson in Living Romantically: 25 June 2014, Wednesday

We let Lara sleep in. We just wanted to see how long she would. At about 10 a.m. she creaked open our door. We looked up from our writing and reading and working and whatever we were doing to greet her and tell her we’d left some eggs for her downstairs.

   That’s how we let the morning go. We did some writing and reading and working and whatever clean until noon. Oh, and Jenny and I ran almost four miles down Confederation Trail in the overcast morning light. We’ve got big plans for our Friday run.
 Lunch—or dinner, as they say around here (How incredibly confusing, for when one says lunch and means lunch, the other doesn’t understand because lunch is now dinner and dinner is now supper and for some reason lunch is now midnight snack, but we’re not really sure about that. At least dessert is still dessert.)—consisted of an unromantic plate of microwaved leftovers from Eden’s Gate. Mine was soggy—even more unromantic—so I filled up on PB&J—slightly more romantic because the peanut butter was unordinary. Hear me out on the PB, because we certainly are not eating ordinary peanut butter on this island. And why would we with the assortment that is available? We bought cinnamon granola raisin PB over banana granola PB, although we’d really like to try that too. And we might still.

            

       Meanwhile, I’ve talked right through us driving to Panmure Island, where we found a lighthouse and a beach of reddish sand. We’ve named it Silver Sand Dollar Beach because we found four whole sand dollars there. And plenty of sea glass to boot. Jenny, who was complaining (Wait, Jenny complains, you ask?) because she couldn’t find anything, left with pockets—plural—full of sea glass and rocks and shells and a sand dollar and a half and a headless starfish.

Even better, I sagely predicted that we would find shells, sea glass, and men on the beach (we've been on the search for Gilbert Blythe since before we arrived). Well, we found all those things—including a man, a crab man, that is. See the photo below. You might have to use your imagination, but he'll appear soon enough.

       We left the beach just as it began to rain, and the rest of the afternoon was pretty routine. Driving through the rain-dressed greenery and lupine-garnished fields of Prince Edward Island from lighthouse to lighthouse, beach to beach. Spotting a Prince Edward Island fox, with pokey eyes and a white-tipped tail. Sticking our toes out in the rain but never too much more.

            
The swingset at Wood Islands lighthouse was much too tempting for Jenny though, so she swung in the drizzle while Lara and I dashed around some small empty wooden buildings that resembled an old fisherman’s town.

Lena

Lara

  

  The scrumptious-looking treats at the Maroon Pig were also much too tempting for our starved bellies (that also really like sweet, delicious, scrumptious things), so we indulgedly bought four varieties. If only they had tasted as scrumptious as they looked. But with a good imagination, they might as well have.

            

    Home is always sweetest after a day of rain and near starvation. Home is even sweeter when your aunt Nola and friend Shannon grill veggies for you and treat you to PEI ginger ale and let you unsoggy yourself while babbling off the tales of the day. Home. Hmm.

P.S. Jenny and Lara were mad/grumpy for a number of reasons: first, I was taking their picture after they'd changed into their pjs; second, I've been hoarding Easter candy; and third, Jenny's socks have holes in them after only 2 hours of wear. Watching A Knight's Tale and eating hoarded candy has put smiles on their pruney faces. But Lara was ungrateful, so I took the candy away.

 At Panmure Island lighthouse