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An author and illustrator describes how he and his wife moved from New York City to an isolated peninsula on Nova Scotia.
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Tomi's illustrated journal of life in Nova Scotia reads like one of his peculiar stories. The lives there as ephemeral and acerbic as the tides, leave the people feeling more like apparitions. Their intermittent visits an offering of comic relief in a place where humor's only service lies in making light of loss. And that loss in Gull Harbor, steady yet unpredictable, becomes an immutable fixture of the landscape, taking on a life of its own.
Life in New York City (what drove Tomi and Yvonne to Nova Scotia) favors callous, and that callous shelters a burgeoning romanticism for reclusion. If you're feeling the hermit's itch, this book will indulge with a hearty scratch and makes for an especially poignant read in winter.
“I had often heard the expression ‘a car wrapped around a telephone pole.' Well, we actually saw one. This car had missed a curve and hit a simple, modest, unpretentious little pole. The pole did not break, but the car, an American whale of a thing, had its chassis bent so that the front bumper literally met the rear bumper. That vehicle must have practiced yoga for quite a while to be able to accomplish such a feat. The driver, his pals, and the telephone pole walked out unharmed.”
“As my wife said the other day, ‘One always exaggerates by telling the truth.'”