I’m going to see if I can squeeze a post in before the “city girl” gets hers done. I know she was laboring under the lamplight last night until, exhausted, she filed a draft away for the morning, so I’m going to use my four hours’ time-zone advantage to write a bit, especially for those of Maria’s acquaintances who barely know the stranger she’s engaged to.

The family homestead, barn and woodworking shop where I grew up.

I’m not all that sure about the “Island boy” title, but I’m going with it. In my hyperactive imagination I get a picture of a tanned and tattooed surfer dude with coconut swim trunks, posing in front of palm trees, beaches, and a yellow Toyota Cruiser. Sure I’m an island boy, a Prince Edward Island boy, and I currently am blogging in -5 degree Celsius weather from underneath a 25-inch deep pile of snow. This is a Northeastern-Canadian Island, baby, and it’s a subzero kind of cold this time of year!

I grew up on a farm (we had hobby animals like horses, goats, chickens, geese…) with four siblings, so that’s Christina, me, Timothy, Scott and Hannah. My father is a native Islander and has run a construction company since the year I was born; my mother is from British Columbia, and is a runner-up for the best mom in history. I will skip the piles of mischievous anecdotes and head over to the significant and memorable. Given my solid Catholic upbringing, I was open to discerning the priesthood, one thing followed another, and I ended up spending my junior and high schooling in a New Hampshire seminary with over a hundred other boys. And I spent many happy years there… and then I moved on. I’ll write about it a bit later. For now, more pictures – here is an assortment of the best ones I’ve taken of my Island.

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