Scored some real gems

...all thanks to Gerry:

Silk Trail by Andrew Suknaski.
Selected Poems by Theodore Roethke.
Continental Trance by bpNichol.
The Night the Dog Smiled by John Newlove.
A Map to the Door of No Return by Dionne Brand.
The Green Plain by John Newlove.
Headframe by Birk Sproxton.
Momentary Dark by Margaret Avison.
Land to Light On by Dionne Brand.
No Language is Neutral by Dionne Brand.
Deep Hollow Creek by Sheila Watson.
The Snowbird Poems by Robert Kroetsch.
The New Layman's Almanac by Jacob McArthur Mooney.

They arrived the other day.

Go Leafs!

Recent arrivals

The War in the Country: How the Fight to Save Rural Life Will Shape Our Future by Thomas F. Pawlick.

Pandora's Seed: The Unforeseen Cost of Civilization by Spencer Wells.

These two books were ordered by H, who is a big reader just like me. He heard interviews with the authors on CBC radio. Much of the nonfiction that comes into this house is thanks to this.

As well, many of the writers I hang around in life and online are those who share what they're reading. The rest of the books in the pile are here because of this.

The Art of the Personal Essay: An Anthology from the Classical Era to the Present selected and with an introduction by Phillip Lopate. I ordered this thanks to Ian.

Hiddenness, Uncertainty, Surprise: Three Generative Energies of Poetry by Jane Hirshfield. Thanks to this post on Capacious Hold-All.

My Life as a Dame: The Personal and the Political in the Writings of Christina McCall edited by Stephen Clarkson, foreword by Eleanor Wachtel. Thanks to this post on Matilda Magtree.

The Martyrology: Books 3 & 4 by bpNichol. This is thanks to Gerry following a previous post here. But I have to give this one back.

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Yes! I just came across another must-have book over on That Shakespearean Rag.

August is always the weirdest

...month going. That's a given. This August is no exception. Nothing but weird.

How weird is a meatloaf cupcake with mashed potato icing? An image of this arrived with a letter today.

How weird are the words "Good Year Blimp" handwritten on a postcard? Weird I tell you. Those are the first words that popped out at me. This arrived the other day.

How weird is a yard full of grackles? Seriously weird. They arrived the other day and just hung around as if the souls they were carrying were too heavy. They stayed the night.

And that's not all. Things clicked. I'm writing. I've been writing August away.

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August briefs:


I'm reading Lives Like Loaded Guns: Emily Dickinson and Her Family's Feuds by Lyndall Gordon and loving it, absolutely loving it. It's the most compelling and inspiring biography I've encountered in quite some time.

I gave Brenda Schmidt a facelift.
(Aug. 13 Clarification - This just means my other blog has a new template and new author/artist pics. That's all.)

I hopped on Select Hops. Check out my tomatoes!

What a wonderful writing experience

...I had! I spent 10 beautiful July days in the poetry colloquium at the Sage Hill Writing Experience. Yes, I indicated in the comments to a previous post that I wasn't applying, but I eventually caved in to peer pressure. At my age caving in means deep down I really wanted to go. And I did. It was a thrill to work with Daphne Marlatt. I first encountered her work in an English course way back when and have since added many of her books to my collection. And now I have a copy of my manuscript sitting before me, her thoughts penciled in. Possibilities. Paths. The odd ledge.


The odd opening.

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The photo above is not from Sage Hill. It's the Sandcastles near Beechy, Saskatchewan. We were there in July. Didn't see any snakes. Not then.