R.C. Highcroft's Blog, page 2

Review my book and receive a free copy!

Already have a copy of Providence Point? No problem, there’s something interesting for you, too; please see below. But if you’re still undecided, you can request a Kindle copy for free (good for first 20 responses).

Send your email address and full name to rchighcroft@gmail.com and I’ll send you $4.52 (= $4 plus tax) for a Kindle copy from Amazon.ca. I could use either Interac E-transfer or PayPal, whichever you prefer.

In return, I’d really like you to submit reviews in each of these two places:

The Amazon site via ‘Review this Product’ on the Amazon.ca page for my book (URL https://a.co/d/aHNorPD )As a comment on my Blog, at https://rchighcroft.com/

By all means, keep things simple. It’d be fine to paste in the same review each time.

And if you already own Providence Point, maybe you’d like to help a friend access a free Kindle copy (and hopefully submit a review). I’ll happily respond to your friend the same as above: just let them know, and then send me their full name and email address at rchighcroft@gmail.com (with advice as to using Interac E-transfer or PayPal).

Also, the above review submission details are of course valid for you, too, if you own a copy but haven’t yet registered a review!

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The Woods by Day or by Night (July 5)

Exploring the woods behind the cottage was the ideal way to prospect for discoveries to record in Grandpa’s ledger of annual revelations. And Granny and I never missed an opportunity to contribute.

“At first, we used to walk side by side along the footpath near the Wash. But our practice … changed … [when] Granny began sending me down the lagoon in my rowboat. I steered a few yards offshore. She stayed abreast of me on dry land …

“‘Keep your eyes open, Robbie. You check from your side and I’ll watch from mine.’ It was a good tactic … Very little escaped us.”

But whenever we went out after dark, “we both took the path… Navigating stealthily to avoid dry leaves and brittle twigs required constant attention. As a result, our hearts beat wildly at the slightest commotion in the nearby undergrowth.”

It was a ritual Granny invited me to enact as often as possible, and “after nearly every late-night adventure, we walked back without speaking. I went first. My role in that position was difficult to ascertain. I could not be sure if she simply followed me or if, in fact, her vigilance was guiding me step by step. Perhaps both. My grandfather used to observe that with Granny there was usually more than met the eye.”

Providence Point, pp. 92-3, 96

Outings of that nature not only offered opportunities for knowledge to pass from generation to generation, but also promoted bonding that lasted a lifetime. Mentors, we may conclude, can come in diverse forms, many of them quite unexpected. Other cheering instances await readers throughout the pages of Providence Point. You can order your own copy via the links on this site.

Do such experiences ring a bell for you? If so, perchance you’d like to leave a comment.

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A Perfect Day (June 30)

“On Friday afternoon, Grandpa was already sitting in the veranda when I reached the top of the steps. He had arrived from the city while I was out fishing. In one hand he held a bottle of Old Vienna. An expertly slanted glass was in the other. Everything looked right, but he shot me a weary smile.

‘You know, Robbie, they always pour best with the cap off.’

“He reached for the opener on the table beside him. His first sip came straight from the bottle. Then he tipped most of the rest into his glass and sank back with an enraptured sigh.

‘What a day…What a week!’”  (Providence Point, p. 122)

At moments like this Granny seemed to intuit that it would be best to leave the two of us alone. She fully expected me to visit the kitchen for a glass of ginger ale but had no wish to be present when I went back to cadge a top-up of lager from Grandpa. She and he were British enough to view a clandestine draft of shandy as a milestone on the way to adulthood, but my parents certainly were not. And she preferred to maintain plausible deniability.

Such little conspiracies were precious. Thinking back, they earned a special place among Providence Point memories. Very likely you, too, have such recollections. If so, by all means share one as a Comment. And dip into Providence Point to find a wellspring of additional examples.

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Admission to Janine’s House (June 17)

“From age seven I was the only anglophone, adult or child, Janine permitted inside the house. Yet extreme poverty was not the cause of her reticence. As I stood awkwardly on her threshold for the first time, she made the situation plain. ‘Outside, we’re polite. We speak English in Port or with city folks. But in the house, it’s only French. That’ll go for you, too, Robbie.’

“My face must have betrayed alarm.

“‘It’ll be hard for you, but it’s not your fault. So we’ll break the rules a little. You can use as much English as you want, but you’ll hear nothing but French…

“‘… Don’t worry. We won’t expect much. You’re Hank’s friend and you’re a good boy. That’s enough. And now, no more English from me.’

“…I stepped forward, and Janine’s promise held true. From that day on, I ran in and out as freely as any of the other youngsters. And I gained admission to an utterly unexpected world.”

Providence Point, p. 14

That opportunity was a gift that never ceased giving. For today’s urban-dwelling Canadians, multiculturalism above all reflects harmonious relations among newcomers from all over the globe. And that’s surely a blessing. But what Robbie discovered was a different form of cultural richness: the vibrancy of a state established by two coequal founding nations.

Have you encountered that kind of social complexity in Canada or elsewhere? There’s no doubt it can be a prime source of satisfaction in life. Give it thought as you read through Providence Point.

And in the comment box below, why not describe an example that seems especially meaningful to you?

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Youth, a Small Boat, and Absolute Contentment (June 7)

“I was out for a pensive afternoon on my own. Fishing would be little more than a pretext for laying claim to a moment of solitude. I looked around the tranquil inlet where I found myself. The clouds were high, and the sky was still bright. A few other watercraft were visible far across the Bay. Whenever I chose, I could motor out to join them. Or I could stay back a while longer. Little can match the optimism generated by youth, a small boat, and absolute contentment as a blissful day draws to its close.” (Providence Point, p. 150)

The call of freedom on the water – in secluded coves or on wide-open expanses – is a key theme throughout Providence Point. Any reader familiar with Georgian Bay or other similar resources will instantly recognize that motif.

Look through your own copy of the novel to find particular passages that have special meaning for you. And if you wish, celebrate an example from your real-life experience in the comment box below.

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Grand-père Évariste’s Farmhouse (June 1)

The setting of Grand-père Évariste’s waterside farmhouse calls to mind this striking evocation of the region from the Georgian Bay Biosphere Reserve website – https://georgianbaybiosphere.com/ – “The Bay is an amazing resource we must share; seasonal cottager, transient tourist and year rounders… and we must all respect the Bay to ensure the next ‘seven generations’ will have the good fortune to be amazed like we were.”

The house “stood on a granite ridge with a view over the Bay. Conifers growing from crevices in the rock flanked its two storeys. Every few years one or more of them blew down, but volunteer replacements gradually filled in the gaps. The jagged outline of those trees was an icon of north-country resilience…

“A wider than usual band of fertile soil lay between the house and the shore. To squander no arable land, Évariste had perched the family home on bare rock higher up. Then he laid out the entire open space as an enormous truck garden. Its north-to-south rows caught every ray of sunlight. That attention to detail was richly rewarded….” so that “the contrast between lush cultivation and its weather-beaten backdrop bore witness to the value of diligent labour.”

(Providence Point, pp. 58-9)

In common with other settings you’ll visit within the covers of Providence Point, Évariste’s hard-won garden vibrates with the tension between a parsimonious landscape and the irresistible promise of abundance. But as skilled and methodical as it may be, dedicated toil is far from always rewarded. Such is the essence of life in either the city or the boondocks. See more about it in the novel itself, and if you have your own example of the same principle, add a comment below.

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The Point (May 24)

Here is Providence Point as it looked by the time Rob had grown old enough to begin imagining it might one day be his own. But in fact its surroundings and appearance changed little from the earliest days.

“A local couple had first started to build what later became the Point. It would have been their year-round dwelling. But a logging accident cancelled that dream when only the walls and roof were complete. The widow set up house with relatives in Midland and opted for summer rentals instead. Granny and Grandpa were her first tenants. In their second season, they became the owners…

“They christened it Providence after a home they once rented in a village south of London. Point was a nod to the rocky outcrop where it stood … On driving in, they would park the car in a hut that served as a garage in summer and a boat-shed in winter. A grove of oaks and pines surrounded both it and the main building. Dappled sunlight trickled through the branches, and the view across the Bay was glorious. Naturally, there was no electricity, telephone, or indoor plumbing. In a word, it was paradise!”

(Providence Point, pp. 2-3)

In those simpler days Georgian Bay cottages were expected to be rustic cabins rather than anything like city-style homes. As a result, outlays to cover upkeep and running expenses were much reduced. Still, what the Colonel observed regarding his own Bayside acreage holds true for any cherished property: “There’s no Eden without a serpent.’ And anxieties need not only be financial.

The Point’s untouched natural setting was central to its appeal, and no resident would ever entirely control that part of the puzzle. Knowing the names of every flower, tree and wild fruit might provide a semblance of dominion, but Rob could not escape the truth that such a perfect environment would inevitably fall prey to countless forces beyond his control.

Perhaps you, too, have confronted that dilemma. If so, by all means leave a comment to illustrate what you’ve seen. And if you’re wondering how this particular instance of the universal heartache will unfold, seize your opportunity to buy a copy of the novel in order to follow it firsthand.

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The Robin and the Sparrow (May 19)

“Granny’s craft was a nimble dingy twelve feet long. Its enamelled canvas skin was permanently watertight. There was no need to moor it at the dock until it “took up” in the spring. In May, Granny could go straight out for a row without waiting. This was her chance to spread her wings after a long winter in the city…

“Grandpa’s skiff was longer and more substantial. Its cedar-strip hull required time in the water to tighten its seams each May … Consequently, sunny afternoons in the early spring witnessed two contrasting scenes. Granny had no time to lose. She would be on the water hoping to glimpse trilliums, trout lilies, or other wildflowers on the shore of the marsh that ran far inland beside the Point. Grandpa, conversely, would be tucked away on the veranda. For warmth, he usually donned a beige and brown hounds-tooth jacket retired from office use …

‘Granny christened her red-breasted dingy as the Robin… If she had had her way, Grandpa’s skiff would have been officially baptized the Sparrow. But he was not convinced. The name was often used—especially by my grandmother—yet it was never inscribed on the boat itself. In that and other respects, the two of them happily not only did as they pleased but also found room to aid and abet each other.’ (Providence Point, pp. 29-30)

Overall, Granny’s and Grandpa’s relationship exemplified the freedom that the wide-open spaces of the Bay and its largely untouched landscape seemed to promise. Escaping from the city brought them a much-valued opportunity just to be themselves.

If this refreshing perspective makes you think, you can read more about it by obtaining your own copy of Providence Point. And perhaps as well, their example will make you recall other illustrations of similar wisdom from your personal experience. If so, please share that insight in the comment section below.

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Fishing from a boat of one’s own (May 10)

No peaceful activity rivals fishing for twenty minutes on an isolated bay in a boat of one’s own. Unless of course life gets too hectic, in which case wisdom prescribes at least an hour! And so as soon as Robbie took possession of his first rowboat, he would set out to spend …

“… most of each morning, afternoon, and evening on the water. No fishable area off the Point remained unvisited. The sense of liberation was enough in itself to keep me committed, yet there was also another incentive. I was all too well aware of my mother’s disdain for seven-day-wonders. No way I would fall into that trap…

“I knew the care my grandparents lavished on the Sparrow and the Robin. Determination to reach that standard was at least as motivating as the threat of my mother’s disdain. When my boat was moored, I checked the tension on bow and stern lines again and again. The shiny green hull must never chafe against the dock. And I was quick to wipe away any muddy residue left by the anchor on the spotless interior. Each day before breakfast, I walked out for a first glimpse of my trusty companion. And on my way to bed each evening, I stood for a moment by its side. Merely being near it kindled dreams of adventure.” (Providence Point, p. 50)

Whether it is Ishmael’s Pequod, Huck’s and Jim’s raft, or the home-made Musketaquid boarded by Thoreau and his brother for their Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, boats exude a magic unmatched by any other means of transport. There is always the lighthearted freedom of a bicycle, of course, and the companionship of a dependable horse to ride. But only a vessel permits leaving shore to patrol open waters. The freedom comes as close to birdlike flight as ordinary mortals can imagine!

Many readers will have enjoyed such a getaway. If that’s you, why not leave a comment on this post? And if the recollection is especially delightful, consider clicking on one of the book-seller links to purchase a copy of Providence Point for yourself.

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Granny’s Rattler … or Bear? (May 5)

It was agreed by all that Granny had weathered some kind of adventure on the boathouse dock one afternoon long before Robbie’s birth. A rattlesnake had reportedly been involved, but the details of the story were hazy:

“In my parents’ version, my grandmother had frantically shooed it away with an oar from her rowboat. In Granny’s own account, she had calmly unfolded her deck chair and sat back to share the sunshine until the visitor chose to depart. I could never be sure which rendition was true until an entirely new variant came to light…

“Granny’s French-Canadian friends may well have known her better than anyone. In their telling of the story, it had been not a rattlesnake, but a black bear. They lauded her cool decision to stare it down with the combination of bluff and circumspection they had taught her for such an emergency. And they vied with each other to adorn their testimony with persuasive minutiae. One boastful hunter went so far as to affirm dropping off a pair of still-warm steaks at Granny’s kitchen door the following day.

“By the time I heard all that, the moment had long since passed. Winning the argument ceased to matter. In myths and legends, glass slippers call for no common-sense explanation.”

(Providence Point, pp. 6-7)

Folkloric tales of that sort made Granny a pivotal figure in young Robbie’s world. Not until his teenage years would he begin to more fully understand her. Still, even after losing a little of her magical aura, she remained his respected guide.

Providence Point is constructed around glimpses into all manner of friendships, collaborations, and even rivalries. Not every one of them unfolds as satisfyingly as the relationship between Robbie and his grandmother, but all repay scrutiny. Above all, blest are those uplifted by an elder who grows with them as they make their own way. A relative, a friend, a teacher or even an employer – such mentors make all the difference!

But rattlesnake, bear or whatever else may be in store from encounter to encounter, you’ll only be sure if you acquire a copy of the novel to see for yourself. Do so through Amazon or any of the other sellers listed on my site and, while you’re there, leave me a review!

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