nichepoetryandprose

In Fredericton, we seem particularly sensitive to the city’s past. Since I have only lived in this area about 40 years, I often don’t remember landmarks familiar to those who have lived here most of their lives. My husband who was born here often points out the location of landmarks that no longer exist.

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When I asked him about Blighty’s, memories surfaced right away. When he was 12 or 13, Blighty’s was a regular part of the week. After church on Sundays, Blighty’s was the first stop on the way home. He remembers it as a crowded spot, always busy. It was little more than a small shack, with eight or more people working inside, waiting on people or preparing food.

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Blighty’s used fresh-cut potatoes for their French fries. My husband remembers the smell of grease and the bright coloured light bulbs strung on wire. He also remembers that everything tasted delicious.

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Drive up, stand at wicket, get a number and wait until called. Everyone in the family ordered fish and chips (one or two big pieces) and a bottle of pop. The food was served on paper plates, sized for the meal, and a bottle of ketchup sat on the counter. There were a couple of picnic tables but they always ate in the car. At the end of the meal, there was a big barrel for the garbage.

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Blighty’s underwater in the flood of 1973 (Source: New Brunswick Archives)

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David Watts, a friend from my writing group Fictional Friends also remembers Blighty’s and he has captured the spot in one of his image-rich poems. David is a photographer and writer. He has contributed posts to CommuterLit here and keeps our Fictional Friends writing group moving in the direction of learning. David is also one of the organizers of Odd Sundays, a reading venue for writers in the Frederiction area.

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David says:

my love of words and how they work has been a life-long passion

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I hope you enjoy David’s memories of Blighty’s …

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Thank you David for taking us back to Blighty’s!

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All my best,

Jane

In a few days we have seen green trees and shrubs turn to reds, oranges and yellows, the colour of fall. Then, in another short space of time, the rains come and so much of the colour is gone. One thing I like about living in this part of Canada, nature makes its presence known in the march of the seasons. We can never lull ourselves into thinking we are independent of our surroundings.

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All my best,

Jane

If you like dystopian science fiction with a touch of romance, you might like my science fiction series Meniscus. For a twist, my story is told as a long poem and is an accessible quick read. My books are also illustrated and include maps, a glossary and an alien dictionary.

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If you would like to try out the series, the first book Meniscus: Crossing The Churn is free in e-book form from Oct. 12 to 16. Have a look here.

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Meniscus: Karst Topography is available on October 15 at Amazon in both paperback and e-book here. When the women of Themble Hill are taken by the Dock-winders, the Slain and his friends travel on a rescue mission to Prell. The book will take you on a search of the streets and alleyways of the alien city. But do the women of Themble Hill need rescuing?

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All my best and happy reading!

Jane (a.k.a. Alexandra)