...it's July. Posts will be sporadic until September.
The last couple weeks seemed to pass in a blink. I wrote, painted, gardened, watched birds, found spiders, washed walls, started painting the house and walked and walked and walked. I was told some great stories. Some fantastic thoughts came to me as I was brushing and flossing my teeth. Maybe if I'd brush and floss a bit longer I'd finally get my novel written.
While it's already been a summer of sensory overload, three things stand out.
Last week the cat and I stood in the sun room and watched the high school grads' annual drive-by parade. The honking horns, the RCMP's flashing lights, the occasional siren, and the screaming chorus of woohoos really impressed the cat. Her ears were flat for the entire time. I had been working on a poem that morning and as I watched the parade pass by I wondered if there were any writers among them. Maybe in twenty-some years one of them will be spending a morning on the beginnings of a poem, trying to feel out a line. I'd gladly give them the line that I was working on.
This weekend I decided to go to a free pancake breakfast in Flin Flon. While my love of pancakes is not news, I can't remember if I've ever been to a pancake breakfast. My hankering for pancakes was strong, but what I craved most was the experience. I went expecting to see something unusual or useful. Something I could write about. As I stood in line I observed the smiling pancake flippers, the smiling sausage turner, the smiling syrup pumper and several picnic tables full of smiling people happily chatting between bites. As we looked for a place to sit, I took note of the sunlit steam rising from my pancakes. The pool of syrup. When we finally found an empty spot, I put my plate down and stood there frowning, suddenly realizing I'd have to somehow get my legs over the picnic table's bench in order to sit down. I had a skirt on. There was no graceful way.
Speaking of grace, yesterday, against a backdrop of greenstone and trees, I watched a tiny motorcycle become tinier as it sped into the distance. On it, under a huge helmet, was a small child wearing a bubblegum pink dress.