Cape Breton Stories, Myths and the Occasional Half-Truths
Blog: Quilts of Autumn
Women’s Craft as Protection and Guardianship:
Cape Breton stories from my Cape Breton Stories, Myths, and the Occasional Half-Truths—tales filled with folklore, mystery, humour, and a touch of magic of Home!
The Quilt Keeper of Glace Bay
Cape Breton Stories, Myths and the Occasional Half-Truths
Frank will remain in Hiatus for another 12 months
When we first meet Frank, his wife has passed. He shovels...
One of my priorities as a writer is that there is nothing untoward in my stories. I want them to be accessible to everyone. I do not travel in darkness. I do wander down paths that distract from what matters most to me: vulnerability, courage and change.
We meet back with Frank in Nov '27
Frank remains in Spain while I finish my Cape Breton Stories 2 Based on a Robert Burns Poem.
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I do academic research & blog bec it informs my fiction!
I am preparing to publish Market Smart: A Practical 10-Step Marketing Framework for Small Business Growth.
Shovelling Man Series
Welcome to Frank's Story
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reviews:The Shovelling Man Series
Review
Review
Review
The book is an insightful account of the grief journey of a spouse navigating life after loss and the difficult decisions he makes to honor his beloved while he struggles to move forward. Your message has inspired us to BURN our many years' worth of journals, much like the Cape Breton stories that resonate with our experiences, sometime l
The book is an insightful account of the grief journey of a spouse navigating life after loss and the difficult decisions he makes to honor his beloved while he struggles to move forward. Your message has inspired us to BURN our many years' worth of journals, much like the Cape Breton stories that resonate with our experiences, sometime late summer. This way, there will be no dilemma for those we leave behind. Thank you for your 'Shovelling Man Series' idea, which has been a source of inspiration for our grief and healing.
Review
Review
Review
The Shovelling Man Series is a deeply compassionate book that beautifully captures the essence of grief and healing. Set against the backdrop of Cape Breton, it's a simple yet profound story about a man grappling with the pain of losing his wife. He must navigate his way through his sorrow, all while facing the heavy snowfall outside. Thi
The Shovelling Man Series is a deeply compassionate book that beautifully captures the essence of grief and healing. Set against the backdrop of Cape Breton, it's a simple yet profound story about a man grappling with the pain of losing his wife. He must navigate his way through his sorrow, all while facing the heavy snowfall outside. This narrative embodies a Zen quality, illustrating just how deeply he loved his wife and highlighting the journey of life after loss. It's a very stoic tale, and I truly enjoyed this exploration of Cape Breton stories.
Excerpts from The Shovelling Man Series (1-7)
#1 The Shovelling Man: A Fox
In Cape Breton, there are two kinds of people: those who curse the snow and those who pick up a shovel and get on with it. Frank belonged to the second group. He had spent a lifetime clearing driveways, sidewalks, paths to woodpiles, and the narrow trails that connected one winter day to the next. He had shovelled before work, after work, and in storms that buried cars to their mirrors. He had shovelled in moonlight, in blizzards, and in the blue stillness that comes just before dawn. Like generations of Cape Bretoners before him, Frank knew that winter was not something to conquer. Winter was something to live with. There was a rhythm to it.
The lift. The toss. The whisper of crystals drifting on the wind. The steam of breath rising into the cold. The deep silence that follows when the work is done. Most people saw it as a chore. Frank saw a conversation. The snow fell. He answered. One shovelful at a time. When Julie died, the world lost its shape. Friends spoke of moving on. Books spoke of healing. Time was supposed to help. Yet none of those things offered the certainty of a shovel in his hands.
Snow was honest. It arrived. It accumulated. It demanded attention.
And if you wished to get through it, you picked up your shovel and began. So Frank shovelled. He shovelled through winter. He shovelled through memory. He shovelled through grief. And somewhere beneath the drifts of loss, he began to uncover a path forward.
#2 The Shovelling Man Begins
The Shovelling Man Series is a deeply compassionate book that beautifully captures the essence of grief and healing. Set against the backdrop of Cape Breton, it's a simple yet profound story about a man grappling with the pain of losing his wife. He must navigate his way through his sorrow, all while facing the heavy snowfall outside. This narrative embodies a Zen quality, illustrating just how deeply he loved his wife and highlighting the journey of life after loss. It's a very stoic tale, and I truly enjoyed this exploration of The Shovelling Man Series.
#2 The Shovelling Man cont.
He shook his head at his silent chaos and the unsettling feeling of death still alive in his mind, a feeling of deep grief. When he stepped outside, he raised his shovel like a sword against the icy air, a tool for his life after loss. Julie was probably watching him from above. "Keep the light on for me," he said to the pale grey sky.
#3 Shovelling Man: For You, Julie, I can do anything!
A plough rambled down the road, leaving a fat lip of snow at the base of his driveway. By the time he had cleared it, his ears were freezing and his fingers stiff. When the shovel broke, he tossed it behind the garage, a small frustration in a world filled of grief. Only an excuse was all he ever needed for a trip to the Canadian Tire; Julie’d tease him. She’d be leaning against the stove, waiting for whatever she was baking. She was always baking something, filling their home with the warmth and smells of ginger cake, apple pies, and bread. She had taken the aromas of home with her when she passed.
#3 Shovelling Man cont.
As he backed the truck out of the garage, he looked at the blue shutters with the cutout hearts─Julie's choice. Everything was her choice. Frank followed the plough tracks down the road. When he reached for his sunglasses, he looked at her gloves on the passenger's seat, her sunglasses in the cupholder, and the statue of St Christopher she hung from the rearview mirror to keep them safe. How could she have passed and left so much behind? Every inch of their home was hers. Now he was navigating life after loss. Who knew the challenges of a life without Julie..
#4 Shovelling Man: The Tibetan Book of the Dead
They embarked on a shared journey through the book. Their together, readings and earnest discussions serving as a lifeline between them. These readings provided them with a shared language—a necessary dialogue that brought comfort in their lives. At night, he'd whisper in her ear: Fundamental light. Oh, nobly born, let not thy mind be distracted.
There were other nights when they would put on Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic." He'd twirl her around in the living room until she couldn't anymore.
#5 Shovelling Man: Humbled by Her Courage
On the nights when Frank couldn't sleep, he would shovel, then head to the backyard, where he would sit in the snowbank behind the garage, beneath the big spruce, hidden from the neighbours. In those moments, he often reflected on how Julie had pointed at him and said, 'You can do this!' Frank was always nearby, just in case she needed him.
#5 Shovelling Man: cont.
What would he do without her?
I won't be here for you, she said.
Ahh, he said, but you'll be up there holding the door.
She nodded with a smile. Let me do the cleanup.
Frank knew she cried when she washed dishes. And that she needed time alone. Signals of their new status.
Lord Tennyson came to mind as he sat in his reading chair: "Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair, Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, And thinking of the days that are no more."
He decided to combine contemporary and ancient materials for her service. She would like that.
#6 Shovelling Man: A Shovel in His Eye
He awoke, startled by the bizarre dream of a shovel in his eye. "Shovel in my eye?! Shovel in my eye?" he thought, bewildered. "See what? Am I supposed to see something?" The strangeness of the dream bothered him like a message only half heard. He had zero patience for anything that wasn't as straightforward as death.
#6 Shovelling Man: cont.
What was next? What could possibly be next?
He knew he needed to consider Julie's sewing room, as she called it. Her stuff, notebooks, drawings, journals, and extensive wardrobe, neatly divided into seasons and colours, were remnants of her life. Her things were beyond his understanding, yet he needed to do this because she was not coming back.
Now?
Yes, now. Or later. Now!
#7 Shovelling Man: Once the Snow Had Gone
Frank watched the sunrise reflecting on the beauty that surrounded him. He had not slept because his mind was ablaze with the possibilities of his life. Ideas beyond his ken, as though he had stepped through a gateway—a portal to the places of his imagination where adventures awaited.
He and Julie had done everything together; they were a good couple. But now, as he grappled with grief and healing, Frank found himself alone, and time was ticking away on his clock.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead's descriptions of the Bardo's states between death and rebirth resonated deeply with him. He felt caught between the states—between life and death —following Julie's passing and contemplating his own rebirth into... that was the question he feared to pose. He did not know what life after loss looked like or what would mark the beginning of his new life.
#7 Shovelling Man: cont.
Everything felt different now. He sighed and looked up the road at his neighbours' homes. Everything was different now. From this point forward, things would change. He knew it deep within. He was at the corner of what was and what would be.
Tibetan Book of the Dead: the 49th day
Kimberley Williamson
The book is an insightful account of the grief journey of a spouse navigating life after loss and the difficult decisions he makes to honour his beloved while he struggles to move forward. Your message has inspired us to BURN our many years' worth of journals, sometime late summer. This way, there will be no dilemma for those we leave behind. Thank you for your 'Shovelling Man Series' idea, which has been a source of inspiration for our grief and healing. From a friend.
(This is me in Kuala Lumpur, taking a break from my studies.)
#8 Shovelling Man: The 49th Day!
The Shovelling Man Series is a deeply compassionate book that beautifully captures the essence of grief and healing. Set against the backdrop of Cape Breton, it's a simple yet profound story about a man grappling with the pain of losing his wife. He must navigate his way through his sorrow, all while facing the heavy snowfall outside. This narrative embodies a Zen quality, illustrating just how deeply he loved his wife and highlighting the journey of life after loss. It's a very stoic tale, and I truly enjoyed this exploration of Cape Breton stories. :)
#8 Shovelling Man: The 49th Day!
He shook his head at his silent chaos and the unsettling feeling of death still alive in his mind. When he stepped outside, he raised his shovel like a sword against the icy air, a tool for his life after loss. Julie was probably watching him from above. "Keep the light on for me," he said to the pale grey sky.
#9 Shovelling Man: Time was Up!
A plough rambled down the road, leaving a fat lip of snow at the base of his driveway. By the time he had cleared it, his ears were freezing and his fingers stiff. When the shovel broke, he tossed it behind the garage, a small frustration in a world filled with grief. Only an excuse was all he ever needed for a trip to the Canadian Tire; JuJulie'dease him. She'd be leaning against the stove, waiting for whatever she was baking. She was always baking something, filling their home with the warmth and smells of ginger cake, apple pies, and cinnamon rolls.
#9 Shovelling Man: cont.
Every inch of their home was hers, and now he was still living in her home without her. He would never again hear, Frank, can you help me move this chair..
"For you, Julie, I can do anything."
#9 Shovelling Man: cont.
Over the next few months, they embarked on a shared journey through the book, their together-readings and earnest discussions serving as a lifeline between them. These readings guided them and provided them with a shared language—a dialogue that brought comfort in their life. At night, he'd whisper Fundamental light. Oh, nobly born, let not thy mind be distracted... There were other nights when they would put on Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic," letting the music weave that closeness around them. He'd twirl her around in the living room until she couldn't anymore.
#9 Shovelling Man: cont.
On the nights when Frank couldn't sleep, he would shovel, then head to the backyard, where he would sit in the snowbank behind the garage, beneath the big spruce, hidden from the neighbours. In those moments, he often reflected on his life after loss, recalling how Julie had pointed at him and said, 'You can do this!'
Frank wished to be nearby while she worked in the kitchen, just in case she needed him. He looked out their back window as she prepared their supper, with the trees casting deep black shadows. Since Julie had returned from her three-month hospitalization, Frank had taken on the role of cooking every night except for that one night when she had insisted on doing it herself.
connect with me: shovellingmanseries@gmail.com
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Questions or Comments?
Feel free to reach out to me with a message or pose a general question about grief and healing, life after loss, or the Shovelling Man Series. Additionally, I welcome inquiries about Cape Breton stories, myths, and the occasional half-truths by emailing: shovellingmanseries@gmail.com.
The Shovelling Man Series by Kimberley Williamson
