Joe's Scarecrows
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After lunch at Cheticamp Melanie takes the wheel for the long drive down the west coast of Cape Breton and on to Truro. I scan the guidebook for hotels. A few miles south of town Melanie gasps. "Scarecrows!" We double back to a gravel parking lot across the road from the water. Behind the parking area there's a field ringed with full-sized human figures sporting all combinations of uniforms, dresses, jackets and accessories. The faces are halloween masks. There's a little stage surrounded by chairs. A group of child scarecrows forms a ring-around-the-rosy circle. Celtic fiddle reels blare from somewhere near an abandoned schoolbus; imagine Scottish jigs broadcast from that green bullhorn on the pole in M*A*S*H. We are alone in the field with the scarecrows. |
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How are you Today? Welcome to Joe's Scarecrows! - I'm Tommy. |
We Will have An Acadian dish "A Chiard" they call in French. Very Good! There will be Music on the Stage and probably a "Square Set!" I'm Donny! |
I'm Andrew! |
But Now It's Not The Same All your Friends are gone, and you are Lucky to see them Back! I'm Amy! |
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"THEY CAN'T GET OVER IT! HOW QUiET, PeACEFUL, AND BEAUTiFUL This is! What 'A Wonderful Time' We have!" This is GOD'S COUNTRY. |
I'm Eileen! |
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| This is Stephen King stuff. Luckily it's a bright clear day, with plenty of time left for us to get far away from here before night falls. |
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