They say all the trouble started after the big bridge arrived. At least that's what Hannah of the Big Bass believes.
Everything changed when the seventh pier was firmly planted in the soft bedrock of the Northumberland Strait.
The day the bridge workers hollered, "All clear, the pier's in place," a most unmusical sound gurgled up from the water, landing with an ugly sounding splat on the deck of the bridge.
Since it was only connected to the P.E.I. side at the time, the sound could only go in one direction and so it snivelled and snorted its way along the big bridge towards the unsuspecting and, at the time, perfectly in tune land of Prince Edward Island.
Once on the fair isle, the entity, whose name was very difficult to pronounce and most unpleasant to the ear, began swishing in and out of musical venues, causing no end of maddening musical mayhem.
At first the problems were isolated so no one took much notice. A guitar player at the Oyster Festival in Tyne Valley complained that while he was playing in the key of "G", out popped an ‘E' flat, much to his embarrassment. At the Irish Moss Festival in Tignish, a well-accomplished fiddler's attempt to play the St. Anne's Reel ended in disaster, putting a damper on his mood and that of the dancers trying to keep time to his music.
Similar weird musical breakdowns were occurring all over the suddenly untuneful isle.
When the annual Rollo Bay Bluegrass Festival rolled around and the top banjo players took to the stage, the sound they produced had people covering their ears and falling out of lawn chairs like startled geese. Soon the normally cherished front row seats were as empty as the front pews in a church.
The final confirmation that something musically foul was afoot came during the playing of The Island Hymn before the big Gold Cup and Saucer Race. On that hot and humid night, thousands of people were on hand to see, and more importantly hear, what happened.
Such was the caterwauling during the playing of the hymn that certain horse owners were heard to say that their steeds were completely thrown out of sync and became useless when it came time to race.
It was now abundantly clear that a great discordancy had settled over the isle.
The arrrival of fall, and the cooler weather, is a tough time for kids. It's check up time, and not just because a new school year is beginning. More importantly, it is time to see how you measure up on Santa's Naughty or Nice List.
If you've had a good year, you just need to hang on for a few more weeks to reap the bounty that awaits on Christmas Day. Those who fear they are on Santa's Naughty List know the pressure is on to change their habits, or accept the fact their Christmas sock is more likely to be filled with warty potatoes than tasty treats.
But this Christmas, on top of that usual pressure, came the added angst caused by the mischievous musical meddler. What would Santa think if he listened in on the children's Christmas concerts and heard kids singing out of tune, violins sounding like drums with holes in them and horns refusing to toot?
One dreaded possibility was perhaps Santa would simply signal to Rudolph to keep on flying and not touch down on such an untuneful isle. That possibility weighed heavily on the minds of children as December arrived.
And it wasn't just the children who were out of musical sorts. People of all ages knew that normal Sunday church services, ceilidhs and concerts would be something to be endured, best by people with tin ears. The only people smiling that December were those hard of hearing.
Hannah of the Big Bass certainly wasn't smiling. Christmas was her favourite time of the year. Whether it was with her big bass, her guitar, a piano or a cello, she loved to entertain and celebrate the season's music.
Help for Hannah came from a most unusual source, a very kind-hearted person, the Unfocused Man. He regularly sat in the seventh pew from the back in Hannah's church. He and Hannah were friends.
Although a devoted churchgoer, the Unfocused Man's mind loved to wander during the sermons. He blamed it on a rare seasonal medical condition. During the exciting days leading up to Christmas, his mind turned to that of a child's, and so he was easily distracted and always excitable.
Every Sunday in December, in spite of the oratory prowess of the good clergyman, and try as he might to concentrate, the Unfocused Man couldn't keep his mind from wandering to topics and subjects other than what he was listening to.
So creative, well done!!!