It’s snowing! Again! I can’t believe it. Guess it was folly to presume that things were getting back to normal around here. Shit. I am so disgusted, keep dreaming of the desert.

Threw a pineapple at a squirrel this morning; a pineapple-shaped lantern-candle holder. I picked it up and threw it at a fat squirrel raiding the bird feeder. He flew into the bushes. Looked like he could use the exercise.

Synchronicity alert. While working on a poem yesterday, I wrote, “periwinkle as stars emerging.” Jon Stewart or someone on his show last night used the word “periwinkle.” What’s up with that? How does that happen?

There is something rather spooky about this project with Tina, the art book combining Continue Reading »

Ah, the familiar, the pluvial. It’s been a relief to have our typical weather return the last few days; dark, dreary, torrents of rain, which are thankfully washing away heaps of dirty snow, providing access to yard and property. A friend said yesterday that she would never complain about the rain again. I suppose we need to complain because if it’s not that, then of course there is always the government, the ferry or bad art.

I saw a physiotherapist yesterday about my right knee which I injured long ago at a Slits concert in San Francisco. I was too impatient to wait in the hideously long queue for the Ladies Room; so feeling very clever and rebellious decided to pee behind the rhododendrons in the churchyard next door. I wish I could remember the venue but I think it was the Geary St. Theatre-the People’s Temple. I suppose I could research that. Wherever it was, it was located next to a Catholic church, or cathedral would be more accurate. I have no qualms about peeing outdoors, was used to it after years of accompanying my father the bushwhacker. I will use whatever is at hand, toilet paper, napkins, tissue, newspaper, are bonus. I can recall climbing back over the tall, wrought iron fence and jumping down onto the sidewalk, which was a lot closer than it appeared in the shadows. My ankle gave way and Continue Reading »

I was chatting with my buddy poet Pete Trower and we were commiserating about how hard it is to get into print these days. The subject of e-books and online publishing came up. Several authors I know have recommended Lulu com. I like the idea that a customer can choose between downloading or ordering a book, which isn’t printed until it’s purchased, going green in a big way. Then I found a message in my In box about how to sell your book online. Then, Jon Stewart had the CEO of Amazon.com on the Daily show promoting the Kindle, a device with a screen that can hold thousands of books. I have no idea whether I would want to curl up in bed with it, would have to try it out but I’m open to the idea. I’m some kind of hybrid I guess, a cross between a page baby and digerati. I am not a digital native like my 14-year old son who used to fall asleep on the keyboard as a toddler. I have been on the internet since the early 90s, published one of Canada’s first electronic literary zines, the Edgewise Cafe and have typed so much my handwriting is about as legible as a doctor’s, but neither am I texting or tweeting much. I just haven’t had time to adapt to them or explore Second Life either. Well, at least I’m finally blogging, as much as possible. In any case, I told Pete I don’t think books will disappear, that they will become rare and even more like sacred objects. They are art objects as well and people will want them around. The demise of painting was predicted when photography  came along and we all know the name of that tune.

Good news! My book of verse, “Window Seat” is finally going to be published! Richard Olafson of Ekstasis Editions has selected it for his fall list. I am so relieved, was wondering Continue Reading »

Is it a blue moon? My kid pointed out the beautiful full moon to me, much to my surprise. I’m usually the one calling him to come outside and look. We have such a brilliant night sky here on the island, with no streetlights. Perhaps my love of the natural world is rubbing off after all.

Snow again! This is the longest, coldest west coast winter that I can recall. It really is disgusting. I might as well be living in the prairies again. Other than that a good day though I am finding it difficult to focus. I’ll blame it on the bad weather. It’s distracting. I helped Lucas make chicken stir-fry for dinner and it turned out well, very tasty indeed.

I’ll be so relieved when Valentine’s Day is over! With all that there is going on in the world, the media becomes obsessed with Valentine’s Day, especially the Vancouver Sun and Province newspapers. Talk about fluff! Retailers should be paying them for promoting their flowers, lingerie and chocolates. Restaurateurs too. If two people are truly in love, every day is Valentine’s Day. How’s that for cheap sentiment?

When was the last time I was at a basketball game? I could not remember! We went to cheer on our niece Ashley. My nephew Jason and his girls—spouse Heidi, daughter Emily and stepdaughters Sanjezz and Ashley live in “Scabby Abby” as Heidi refers to Abbotsford. We all met up on the North Shore for her basketball tournament. We were not able to connect over the holidays, largely due to inclement weather. It seemed like a good opportunity to socialize so we Continue Reading »

Nursing a cold, listening to Kings of Leon sipping Stag Hollow Pinot Noir, ostensibly writing. Dinner by the boys tonight—some kind of pork and pineapple stir-fry—which means a late dinner. Trying to teach Junior life skills. He is very adept at plastering poppy seed bagels with peanut butter or pouring out a bowl of Cheerios but preparing a meal is a bit of a challenge. It is entirely within his abilities, I am certain, which is not to say that he is very motivated. He does like to eat however, so I hope it dawns on him some day soon that we won’t be around forever to feed him and that learning to cook is in his own best interests.

Despite this nasty virus, I am working on poems for our most unusual art book, mine and Tina’s. I must admit to no real method. The work is getting done but I never believe, no matter how many poems I’ve written—that I can do it again. It feels like a hat trick, and of course highly anxiety inducing but if I persist in muddling through, I succeed. Tina digs them and that is the most important thing at this point.

Dreamed I was in a car with Josef at the wheel, a bear in pursuit, it’s giant furious furry head at Josef’s window. Continue Reading »