Easter Weekend King Edward Bay Style
Easter weekend was always our family’s first foray to our Bowen house in King Edward Bay. As children we loved most everything that went with time spent on Bowen Island. Nobody seemed to miss the conveniences of city life. No electricity, no running hot water, and the toilet was an outhouse set back in the woods. It was all perfect. My siblings and I played in what felt like an endless adventure offered up by the forests and shoreline, building tree forts, beach combing, fishing, tree climbing, picnics, then eventually collapsing into our Jones Tent & Awning sleeping bags complete with their own woodsy adventures printed on the soft flannel lining. If the weather was poor, all this adventure played out in the great room with blanket forts strewn from sofa to chairs all anchored precariously with stacks of books. Or we stretched out in front of the fire roasting marshmallows and playing endless board games. Dad played the auto harp, the harmonica, and the old tin wash tub that he fashioned into a bass with a broom handle and some rope. Dad was particularly good at the accordion, which always got our old, smelly, beloved springer spaniel howling. Mom read us Winnie the Pooh while we sipped hot milky tea from thick Blue Willow pattern mugs. There were no Easter egg hunts that I remember. No egg painting. No Church services. My mother’s approach was low maintenance and effective: we woke on Easter Sunday morning to a Purdy’s Easter basket placed at the foot of our bed.
My parent’s utter state of relaxation and happiness enveloped us. It was a brilliant match to all the other fun to be had at King Edward Bay. Of course there must have been bad times, scraped knees, yelling parents, me annoying my sisters and brother. But I don’t remember that. I love that part about selective memory. Looking back as a parent, I see now that my blissful memory of this holiday weekend is indeed a reflection of my parent’s joy for spring spent on Bowen. Happy parents ergo happy children.