Prince Edward Island. Travelling along the southern coast of the picturesque province brings a traveller to the quaint capital city. The city of Charlottetown is the proud place of the Province House National Historic Site. The building that hosted the Charlottetown Conference of 1864, the area is the cradle of Canada’s creation as a nation.
Its renown is balanced by the Confederation Centre of the Arts, with its musicals based on Anne of Green Gables and other entertainments. Close by is the gothic revival basilica of St. Dunstan’s with its noble beauty of stunning stained glass and accompanying ornate crafted stone. Then with a sweep around a view of Victoria Row, a quaint elegance of boutiques, cafes and such. Standing on my Island, standing there.
My Island is a world of traditions with a soul of life breathed in. Down home, hardworking, rural, and family-centred. If a person is lucky enough to be birthed there, their soul forever holds that iron-rich red clay within a tight embrace.
Islander, yes, I am. A flag-waving natural birthed citizen. A Canadian anthem singing and a summer barefoot woman possessing the red soil in my DNA. Islander!
Victoria Row holds a paved darker brick street of two wide lanes bordered by spacious sidewalks containing various outdoor seating during warmer weather. The Row is a sectioned-off street embracing diverse tables and outsized umbrellas that allow lingering on the eclectic chairs. The unique spot that is ‘Island’ elegance exists as a hideaway that is not one. It possesses those mentioned shops.
Me standing outside of the ‘Receiver Vic Row’ on a summer day. The cafe is a simplistic coffee hangout of limited space and the finery of well-brewed drinks with possible light meals. It is a modern-style cafe, gleaming with the hominess of red clay-bricked walls and unpainted natural woods. A wooden ceiling and other wood details are on full display. Simplicity caressed by the scent of expertly crafted fine coffee. The entirety of it proclaims, ‘enjoy, come to taste, taste love poured into brew’.
On this summery day, white casual balloon style pants with a peach-coloured basic crew neck t-shirt and new black leather flat shoes. Dressed in such allows a looking good, feeling great and being on the natural high of sheer glimmering joy.
P.E. Islander women. We are soul gorgeous. We are amazing wonders well crafted by a Creator that adores each of us in boundless love. There may be the fictitious Anne of the gables green, but hey, Island women have a specialness that whispers breathlessness.
On this day, happiness is the feeling glowing in the soul as my ass finds a seat in the farthest corner of the small cafe. A list of four drinks rests on the tabletop of a two-chair bistro set. The drinks rest beside the white notepaper list. My eyes scan it as my palms sense the intense heat of a large cup of peppermint tea.
Tasty is the test sip. The small first-tasting of bravery injected swallowing. A burner, passionate cool mintiness descending to radiate the body. A tease, temptation of more sippings and minty beyond a dreaminess. Heavenly within a burning hell.
” Yummy,” Shiiveringly purrs from within as the burning sensations own lips within the pleasure of minor league daring to drink steaming tea much too early. It has me feel heroic and quacky in one singular breath. Hence, I smirked while pondering the temperature of the four drinks in the cardboard carry tray.
Yes, a bit of torture may become gifted to four others. A liquidity pleasure embracing the knowledge that the volcanic heat of moments ago might whip them too. Therefore, giggling smoothly flows into a big smile of no shame. One of owning no blame within me even more pleased than first arriving.
Enjoying those small notions of forthcoming,’ tainted pleasures’, and the people-watching begins. These green eyes scan all comings and goings seen from where my ass is. Two daring sips later, my two youngest sisters are spotted walking toward the cafe. After a wave to each of them, I notice the two elder sisters are a few feet behind the first two siblings.
Can you imagine four other mortal wonders that are sort of like me? There are four others. Thus, five females, my sisters and me. Yeppers, there are other females in my DNA pool. No. It’s not a world takeover, at least not yet. Maybe later in the day. But, hush, the Creator moulded each of them in wondrous ways. However, a forewarning, I am the least of the five. ( Tee hee hee. )
And, on this summery day, we five are collected into a beehive of plans within a conspiracy of having a girl’s day. Therefore, my ass begins squirming on the chair because five of us will congregate around a table under an umbrella out on the bricked street. After that, we might undertake those plans of a world takeover. ( Tee hee hee ).
(( Vic Row And World Takeover – Writer`s Life – WindWhisperer ))
WindWhisperer 