He’s back!

It has been a very long time since I posted on this page. Too many days (years, really) have gone by to account for my absence. Needless to say, it’s good to talk with all of you again.

Beyond my wildest dreams, (and sorrow), Arn? Narn. sold out its print run and is only available on a secondary market. Check out Amazon for used copies. But to bring you quickly up-to-date, the book has found its way into several prestigious photo libraries. Some of the work is now on display in Newfoundland at the Sealers Memorial in Elliston, Newfoundland. I am honored by their request for the pieces featured. Unfortunately for me, I’ve not been able to come up and see for myself the exhibition. But knowing it’s up there, warms my heart. Hopefully, before too long, I’ll return to Newfoundland, visit some old friends up, meet some new ones, and visit the Sealers Memorial.

In the meantime, I’ve been writing fiction as this website indicates. My new book is Eleven Little Deaths, and while it does not take place in Newfoundland, some of the travels in it by the protagonist, have been informed by mine on the Rock. I’ll hopefully have more info on it before too long.

Until the, take care and may the wind aways blow in your back.

A Newfoundland Christmas post-Christmas poem

I Just received this this morning from a friend of mine in Newfoundland. Sometime ago, I wrote about Mummering at Christmas time in Newfoundland. This little poem does a good job in describing it. Hope you enjoy it.

A Newfoundland Christmas by James Rogin

‘Twas a night after Christmas in old Newfoundland.
The fire in the place was blazing just grand.
I sat on the chesterfield holding the phone,
While the wife’s in the kitchen making a scone.
When all of a sudden there was a loud rap,
And someone was banging tap a tap, tap.

I went to the door and who should appear,
But a “Mummer” or two looking for beer.
They wore old pillow cases,
That well covered their faces,
And I knew our houses were part of their quests.
So I welcomed them in, these old special guests.

They spoke in strange voices,
Saying I had to make choices,
As to who was who in that strange odd pair,
And so I played a part in this yule time affair.
I quickly named a name that wasn’t quite right.
So they drak my drink and went off into the night.

I never found who my callers were that year.
But I’m glad they came with all that good cheer.
And I hope this tradition will never come to an end,
For this is good fun to have with a friend.
And I’ll remember this Christmas wherever I go,
For I love Newfoundland, this will always be so.