In good news my new chapbook has arrived. Some poems go back 6 or 7 years waiting for a place to live. It’s good to have them in the page finally. When I get myself sorted I’ll scan the cover and add a way to buy it. Apart from at the launch May 15th.
That’s in under a month. Which in mid-life time is 3 blinks and a sleep.
And on the 23rd is the launch of Vertigoheel for the Dilly at Raw Sugar. Co-reading with Kevin Spenst and Sneha Madhaven-Reese.
One hour at a time Sweet Jesus…ah… yes, hubby is right. Religious songs do sound like curses.
Too much pleasure ceases to be a pleasure and is converted to a stress, so to schedule less pleasure becomes more of a pleasure.
Books wait. Emails wait. Lifetimes don’t wait. People and moments blink in and out of existence. I really expected my uncle to be around long, to talk with him.
- Glad to get a lunch with a friend.
- Glad to make time for a walk most days. Keeps the keel even.
- Not so glad for the knee making a reflexive stretch and kicking the faucet but heel is thick enough to not bleed. And glad to live with someone who cares if I yelp.
- Glad to not be bored in repeating old mistakes. An infinity of new mistakes to make.
- Glad to make more steady pattern of meals. (Breakfast at 2pm and super at 2pm may be romantically continental and all but it also bears a resemblance to a sumo wrestler diet.)
- Glad to share the bed with a cat even if she takes 2/3 real estate unless we nudge her back.
- Glad that so far today gimpy hip hasn’t given any erratic jolts.
- Glad to have a place where we can self-determine when we eat, sleep, cook, shower, work. A place where there is quiet and a place to go outside where the weather doesn’t try to kill us.
- Glad to sleep solidly and to get to go to summery Paris in dreams.
The Bluebird Effect. Great detailed stories from bird rehabilitation.
And notice the comic effect: a new whistling bird outside the window but I’m too busy typing to turn my head.
And so much backlog to blog. Rather daunting.
I have ramped up a to-list that if it weren’t digital might put my back out to hoist.
I need to still. Today’s date date with hubby. That should help decompress.
- Glad, against all expectations of decades, to wake up again in the morning.
- Glad to be able to call my brain on its game and when its haranguing me (the way I wouldn’t tolerate in another person) to tune it out and dismiss it. It’ll still be trying to derail whatever I do but I see its game instead of getting caught up in its false wolf urgencies. Sometimes it will catch my body and my heart races but progress. It is just an indicator not a mandate or manager.
- Glad to have the sense to schedule time off and schedule time on so there’s life/work balance.
- Glad to have a place to go where we get recognized and welcomed back.
- Thank God for Kids so there’s magic for a while — how they turned a machine box and a lawn slope into a game and made a line taking turns sliding down their snowless hill
- Glad to get to a reading that makes the rest of the world drop away and to be able to surf in the poetry. That’s the 3rd time this year which as a rate is exceptionally high. Once was during 2 Dope Boys at Versefest, once during Ottawa’s Messagio and this during Steve Artelle’s reading. It’s the state of suspending disbelief that I think people can enter for music and movies and novels that is so rare and elusive.
- Glad to get to look forward to a chance to swim again.
- Glad for those small snippets of seeing friends to tide over until a longer sit with
- Glad for literacy and email to tide over to times when words aren’t needed
Sun, warm, and rain and the majority of the snowbanks have gone away.
Dogs were promenading in their new haircuts. People on bikes, trikes, longboards, razors, on motorcycles, scooters or in convertibles. Singers were out busking with guitars. People carrying bouquets or sitting on patios inside the new bird song.
down the street…
in the bank’s planter—
more cigarette butts
than tulip buds
Kitteh doesn’t mind. She finds me most interesting when I move about. She has an observation ledge to watch me when I cook. So, a sous chef. But if she wants to take over, how to get her to wear a net hairscarf. Body suit of nylons?
I’ve mentioned this before but such scrumptious potential words with meanings untaken. You can also challenge and ask for a daffynition and use in a sentence. The affixes and suffixes, the letter combinations are all English but those sounds that aren’t already taken by shapes are all fair game. Real words, however uncommon, like qaid, or zori or vau, are not permitted in anti-scrabble. Blank tiles are tossed. If you pick one up, replacement at no loss of turn. The brain can still jam for a word to play but the advantage of vocabulary size is levelled out.
In other news, you have from yesterday (for time-travellers) until the 11th to make a poem from book spines and get it to the Ottawa Public Library.