.

.

The double

...negative.

*
Poetry and stupidity.

*
Today I've been doing some catching up. We got home last night. The cat was happy to see us. I think. I had hoped she'd let me sleep in, but no. She did everything she could to wake me, finally resorting to the ever effective paper tube. She batted it around the bed and around my head until I got up.


Nice kitty.

On CBC SoundXchange this weekend

...you'll hear my "Songs from the Stelcoat Barn." This from the SoundXchange site:

Brenda Schmidt's "Songs from the Stelcoat Barn" are elusively scary. With their dry, coyote-soaked hint of horror, they are the perfect way to prep for a prairie Hallowe'en.

I love that. Also on the show is work by Donna Caruso and songs by the jazz singer and pianist Andy Bey.

Unfortunately I'll be away and won't be able to catch it. Which is too bad as Kelley Jo Burke always does a masterful job of producing these shows. It's a thrill to have work included.

Things will be quiet here for the next while. Take care and keep warm.

For the first time in a decade

...I missed the Saskatchewan Writers' Guild fall conference. And when I say missed, I mean I missed out. However, thanks to Tracy and her blackberry, I was kind of there. Digitized. In snippets. It's been fun.

For me the highlight of the conference is the open mic. It's happening tonight. Gerry makes it new every year and his intros are always hilarious. I never fail to take the opportunity to read and test new work on the audience. Last year I read my pheasant sonnet, H manning the computer to show the accompanying video, which I'd initially posted on youtube.

I had planned to read an anecdotal piece at this year's open mic. Seriously. Since I'm not there, I thought I'd post it here.



And it's under three minutes! Gerry would've been proud.

I never have a clue

...as to what my friends will do next. For example, here's what I found in the mail today.


And sure enough, among the postcards featuring the covers from the first 30 books in the Nancy Drew Mystery Series, I found the one I mentioned in this post back in August.


There was no letter. Not a word. Just a return address. An address I know.

How I ended up with friends like this is a mystery that would stump even the likes of Nancy Drew. But life is full of mysteries. And for that I am thankful.

Happy thanksgiving.

*

In the comments there is mention of my Nancy Drew hair. H and I decided to see if it's really Nancy Drewish.

Rambling highlights

...from the past week follow, as I'd promised. The highlight of the highlights is my mom's rhubarb pie. The best.

*
On Sunday night we attended Tonight it's Poetry, Saskatoon's only poetry reading series, hosted by Taylor Leedahl. Taylor is a great host and FLINT is a great venue. The line-up included Kevin Wesequate, Phil Legacy, Kerry Ryan and Ariel Gordon, who are currently on their book tour, this being their first stop, and the feature poet was John McDonald. The place was full, the crowd young and attentive. I hear it's always like that. Hats off to Taylor Leedahl for putting this great reading series together. I hope to read there before too long.

*
Before the reading, Ariel gave me a gift. A bag. And not just any bag. The bag she gave me is from the Darfur Project - Eclectic Bags. A great cause. A beautiful bag. I am lucky.

*
Inside the bag was a little white porcelain bird. More on that later.

*
Ariel then gave me a copy of the navel gaze. It's beautiful.

*
On Sunday afternoon I met with my pop culture mentor at the Broadway Roastery. As we were leaving, we ran into a writer who I'd hoped to run into as I wanted to give him my spare copy of Elizabeth Bachinsky's Home of Sudden Service. I'd ended up with two copies for some reason. So I whipped it out of my bag and gave it to him. I'm happy the book has a new home.

*
On Sunday I learned that a writer in my acquaintance knows how to install culverts.

*
The Esso in Raymore, Saskatchewan has fabulous pizza.

*
My article on the 12th Annual Festival of Words is in the September issue of Freelance. I haven't read it yet. However, I did read the president's report.

*
The best cinnamon bun with cream cheese icing on this planet is at the Quick Stop in Swan River, Manitoba.

*
Towne Autobody in Esterhazy, Saskatchewan can repair a quarter-sized stone bruise in a windshield in less time than it takes to drink a cup of coffee. Or read a poem.

*
My shopping list for McNally Robinson included Shawna Lemay's Calm Things and Crabwise to the Hounds by Jeramy Dodds. Both books were just released, so neither one was in stock. I also decided I'd buy Adam Sol's Jeremiah, Ohio, but there were no copies left.

I did buy It's Hard Being Queen: The Dusty Springfield Poems by Jeanette Lynes. Last night I was reading the book and watching Dusty perform on Youtube.

I also bought Mari-Lou Rowley's Suicide Psalms.

And Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Oliver Sacks was 30% off! I couldn't resist.

*
There was a card in the mail when I got home. A cake card. My favourite card yet. Inside was a recipe for pumpkin-cardamom cupcakes with orange-honey icing. Perfect.

A week of strict blogrest

...is what H prescribed and I must say it did wonders. We spent much of that week on the road, enjoying the spectacle of migration. Flocks of geese everywhere, the numbers skyrocketing as we approached the place where I grew up. The place where sandhill cranes rule. Fields of cranes. Sky of cranes. It's unreal.

On our way to that place we stopped many times. H took this pic of me shooting a culvert at Cut-arm Creek.


I think a few of the pics I took will end up on Culvert Installations. We'll see.

I also have a new skill to add to my CV: bug whisperer. Indeed, it seems I'm a gifted tree cricket spotter. I located a number of them during our hikes as H wanted to photograph them. I imagine he'll be adding tree cricket pics to his blog in the weeks to come.

Here we are, hot on the trail.


Shadows of our firmer selves.

*
More about the road trip and the books I bought in the days to come. In the meantime, check here for Ariel's take on the first stop of the Nightowls & Newborns Western Tour, in which I played a wee part while looking as if I belong in a wax museum.