So very excited to go to Isle Valen tomorrow!!

Isle Valen is a very special place for me. My Aunt Judy was born there, and I have been going there as long as I can remember! My Nan and Pop (and later Mom and Dad) went there to fish in the summer.

There used to be collector boats that came right to the wharf there to buy the fish, so our family pretty much lived there in the summer. Here is a picture of my Pop there and two photos I took in 2012.

Isle Valen was resettled, like the other islands in Placentia Bay, but people persisted there for a long time after, returning the the summer months to live and fish. My aunt lived there for the first few years of her life, and she is the same age as my parents.

The island is populated these days with caribou and rabbits. For a time there were dogs there, and sheeps too. You can still see the long worn paths in the grass. It is big enough to accomodate a catholic side and a protestant side, like most places. It had churches, and schools

My parents bought what was once the old Co-Op to use as a store, but it blew down in Igor, along with another few out buildings.

The government wharf remains, but just barely.

I haven't been to Isle Valen now since 2012, but I have so many great memories from there. When I was about 5, I was digging for worms and I found a Newfoundland Penny! I think a lot about the person who lost what was a fortune at the time. I still have the penny of course.

This is one of my favourite things on the Island. It's a sewing machine part grown into the tree. This is close to one of the cemeteries and the well, which dad won't use because its full of "bone water"

Isle Valen is also where I developed my nervousness around dogs. I was knocked down by some stray dogs while I was there and I got a bit beat up. Nan took me down to the old tree where the sewing machine is and got turkumtine to put on my cuts.

She popped the blisters with a nail and collected the sap in a baby food bottle lid and then put it on my cuts to close up the wounds. They weren't serious cuts but it taught me not to under estimate the power of dogs, even when they are just trying to play.

This is our place, my Dad built it with help from his brother, my mom, and my Pop W. It started really tiny but it keeps getting bigger each time I go back. It even has a little bathroom to get a wash. The old cellar was filled in because it was dangerous. Now its a fire pit

Another of my favourite things on this island is the Bamboo House. It is the last remaining house on the island, owned perhaps but the Leonard family. It is engulfed in Japanese Knotweed. I will admit that I entered once, and disturbed nothing. It was surreal.

It was as though they just got up one morning, had breakfast, and left. There was still a jar of jam on the table. The walls were papered with newspaper. I crawled on my hands and knees in the second story, though I am sure that strong old house could have supported me.

This was in 2012, and I am very anxious to see tomorrow what still remains after all this time. I am starting to feel like a vulture, returning to pick the bones.