Walk with the Animals

Odd. And this is where photos of me were displayed at mom’s house previously:

mom's odd knickknackery
A nativity scene in the knickknackery? Elephant, bear and cat come to worship Mary, or just offer her a toothpick. Doesn’t bear look ever so hopeful of giving a toothpick?

Have you ever clicked the “Next Blog” link in the header at blogspot?

When did blogger change? It used to be you pushed next blog and you would get randomness, in any language, a bit of Persian politics, a Malaysian SEO business, a pre-teen japanese friends group blog or a blog dead 2 years ago. When you pushed back button you couldn’t go to where you just were, only back to the entry page.

Now back once you start on an English book blogs, it shows you more English book blogs. Start with cooking, it stays in cooking. And the back button goes back. Neat. Someone has been doing some restructuring and tagging there. That gives it a foot up over WordPress.

Through blogger randomness, I re-found a writing exercise I half remembered. Good to get that in full again.

I came across Poets in Rags with this news from Fatima Bhutto. The niece of the late Benazir Bhutto has 2 books of poetry and she says,

“opportunities like the Galle Literary Festival will help foster communication as neighbouring countries; express what we have in common; what is important to our countries and engage in discussions regarding what is happening here as well as in Pakistan. “Why?” she asked herself. “It’s because violence is too easy, it’s limiting people. But writing, speaking or listening is not restricted by the government. To speak, listen and write is one of the most natural and comfortable things a person could do.”

Elsewhere on the clickie forward “When writing a poem, to start another page should be like raising another sheet on a schooner. There should be wind for it. Otherwise it’s best to trim one’s sails (or to revise, one might say).” ~ James

And, from the same random click method comes the story of a drunk hedgehog.

Glad Game: I got 2 books in the mail this week.

I am stocked with chocolate.

Amanda’s out of intensive care.

Had long exchanges by email with a friend.

Got a couple new writing projects/toys to peck away at.

Glad to get some particularly insightful feedback to poems from a couple sources.

Some recipes have embedded comedy such as this one that says it makes 20 servings. A pie cut 20 ways? The comedians.

How the pigeons love their puddle! I wonder if they have mites and if they do, do the mites get washed overboard and doggie paddle until they can hop onto another wing, or do they drown? Glad the pigeons enjoy their splashing about for whatever reason. Like how the other group all bustle a little shuffle over to make room for more along the ridge of a roof. I can nearly hear the pardon me, pardon me of the little grey-suited gentlemen.

While I liked, and was only up to doing, the couple outtings this last week, there’s 6 social outtings in the calendar for this week. A lot to look forward to.

Beastie body is tamer. My body is relenting on the exoskeleton programme of cramps.

Glad mom decided on her own to take back the dog. Better to change course on something not working than oblige oneself to a decision that isn’t working.

Glad to get the donation of the word “fibro flare”. There’s something powerful in a casual phrase that reduces a huge complex mess into an off-the-cuff summary.

Cute overload.

We got tulips to plant.

Glad to further refine the keyboard situation so now there’s a second keyboard and a laptop stand. Now my arms can be at a reasonable height and my eyes and neck are leveled at the screen at the same time. That should help posture. And is better than the nerve-wracking set up of laptop on pile of boxes that tend to slip and crush down.

Glad daily for that scarf of Calgary airport this spring. I swear my health and well-being rely on that pashmina. Used as a hat or jacket, it’s very insulating. Between that and the wool sweater…oh, the Irish sweater store on Sparks Street is going out of bricks and mortar business so if you want some Irish souvenirs without having to go there, now until year end might the time.

Amusing that Crazzy Dave is still sitting on the sidewalk, chatting to people and selling his poems written in marker on cardboard but now with the glossy hardcover book as a purchase option.

Glad to sit in with some Zen River poems and haibun. They are comfortable, casual, restful sort of nature walks thru words. I love how it related being honored by being near an owl without adding to it something fancy-brained-justifying as symbolic or mystical. Reality being good enough is nice to see.

I like how the stories are interspersed with letters dialoguing with the stories, which themselves are sometimes haibun* as well. It makes the collection feel like a community in dialogue more than anthologies usually do. Anthologies often have blinders partitioning section from section. Here poems and people interrelate.

* (Haibun is a poetry form of a prose story with a haiku that relates and expands or concludes the whole, or are set out between sections through the whole story.)

Amusing the words that are ‘already taken’. The Francophone was telling me how to bake some veggie for 10 minutes and then you use the flipflop to turn.

Quote: “I like talking to Rabbit. He talks about sensible things. He doesn’t use long, difficult words, like Owl. He uses short, easy words, like ‘What about lunch?’ and ‘Help yourself, Pooh’.” ~ why, it’s Pooh

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