copyright G.L MacMillan
Eau de Newfoundland
Stanley keeps tiny bottles of water from everywhere he’s visited, but he only ever opens one. He collected it on the beach in Griquet, Newfoundland. Smelling the salt water brings him back to that wild land of rock and trees, where moose roam and majestic icebergs float silently by the shore.
It’s not the nature he misses though. He left her there somewhere, that sandy-haired Newfie beauty he met by chance inside a Viking hut.
He keeps opening the bottle because if he listens closely, he can almost hear her, like the voice of an outport angel.
“Whaddya at, b’y?”
I feel this story needs some explanation for those who have never been to Newfoundland. I grew up there and although I have not been back in many years, it will always be home to me in many ways. So, for the curious, bored, or otherwise inclined, here are some links to peruse.
The inspiration for the title
L’Anse Aux Meadows
A Ghost of a Chance of Success
Honestly, I only tried it because my wife said I couldn’t do it.
She gets me to do all kinds of things that way. “I’ll bet you don’t have the guts to marry me,” she said one indolent afternoon 27 years ago, when the summer crickets were in full concert.
I sure showed her.
The challenges started with the mundane: “Bah, you couldn’t mow the lawn if you tried.”
You’d think I’d learn but I had to show her who was boss. Soon I was doing most of the housework while she watched TV and occasionally called out her disbelief in my ability to do various small tasks that I had forgotten.
Eventually, her challenges crossed over into more exotic realms but I never backed down for a second. I spent most of 2013 trying to build a time machine but eventually just built a very small museum and declared victory.
For this latest challenge, I’ve assembled all the things I might need: a large glass bottle, a tombstone, a Bible, a copy of the Necronomicon (just in case) and a liter of ectoplasm.
Now how on Earth am I going to make a ghost ship in a bottle?