Tag Archives: humour

Yard Work, Digging Mostly

Keeping me on my toes, the gathering of two family members, a neighbour, my librarian and  her daughters, I went ahead with my night to meet and encourage other community writers.

The sensory games and  creativity ideas were tried. Some poetry, mine and another’s ( a professional) published piece were read. A story about the influences of the neighbour attending the event, upon my writing, was pulled for my stockpile and read in it’s entirety. We ate fruit and dessert squares. Another evening, led by me, encouraging young writers was planned for the summer.

In the meantime, stories and threads of ideas were revealing themselves, The group dynamics were interesting. From the mixture of a very small gathering came ideas of reading with very young children, the trauma of  caring for elderly pets,decluttering household contents and wondering about the unforeseen future, knitting, crochet, tatting, hooked rug making, church yard sales, baking, cooking, reading cookbooks, dealing with children, throwing away blackened pots of burnt spaghetti, recalling the chores of working with father in the barn milking the cows and going to the mill and cleaning the house, despising those awful hooked rugs so heavy to drag from the upstairs bedrooms all the way downstairs to air them and clean them while sister baked, studying French and setting up a writing blog …. one that the mom , the librarian, can’t read because it will be all about her according to one of the young daughters.

At the conclusion of the evening another neighbour arrived. A young mother returning her library books, noticing us finishing up the brownies and the fruit tray, realizing we were a bit over the closing hour at the library. Familiar to me, a neighbour, we often say hello. I knew she was a fellow teaching colleague on maternity leave and an artist. Now I know she writes a blog. From just skimming through some of her blog posts I’ve also discovered that her husband is a poet.

All in all, a successful gathering . A very small community gathering of supportive people just planting the seed and nudging together the warming circle of stories, ideas and creativity.Tending a word garden takes effort and patience and with a sprinkle or two of interest it might even take root.

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Type B Willy Nilly

One thing I have done this year is read. My book lists from reading book blogs around the world have kept my local library on point I dare say. Sometimes I get just one book from my list. Sometimes several. Sometimes I get funny looks from the neighbours as I haul two huge bags full of books to the car. The librarian is delighted and so is her supervisor (so I hear). The tiny library puts out the call and the inter-library loan answers as best as it can. A few of the books have been not entirely to my taste but every single one has been well written.

My free spirit will not allow me to record in depth each title, author or review of each work. My system is to simply read a variety of book blogs, jot the book title, author and maybe a few other details on a single piece of note paper and bundle up all the notes for my librarian and hand them over when she calls me to let me know something has come in for me. It is like a lottery. I never know what it will be and I take what I can get, gladly. Do I miss any of the books that she can not find for me (rhetorically asked)…no. Hundreds of books have passed my way this year!

One thing I have not done this year is write. I have written some blogs and a few short stories. I had a short article published and one of my poems included in a day journal for charity. So happy, happy, happy about both little events but for some reason not so inclined to send out too much else. The writing stockpile is still under the desk with revisions pencilled in but not permanently worked into a polished piece. Still, the great question. What is it I want to say when I do commit to writing something .At this point I am trying to outsmart the computer and avoid the weird little marks it is making when I chose certain endings and punctuations. Seriously,Ièmbaffled…see what I meanÉ!

All I know is I am a free spirit, making jot notes randomly and handing them over to a professional so that I can read what I want to read, decline the ones that do not entirely appeal and perhaps that is what my writing needs at the moment. My writing can be so Type A.


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Lost in a Good Part of Town

Clear cold night, nice part of town and there I was, momentarily disoriented. Lost somehow, on my way to visit friends things looked different to me. I have a tendency to drive by landmarks rather than directions.  I had previously visited these folks in daylight and had maneuvered a couple of turns to their home without difficulty but that was some time ago. Tonight, I was literally in the dark and confining myself to a couple of streets that I thought went a certain way and met up at my destination but I had not taken myself far enough down the street so kept looping around and around and around!

 After a few minutes of this I couldn’t quite figure out what I was doing but eventually found myself. I went further down the road, which I thought was a dead end and found it made the curve and low and behold there was the home I was desperately trying to find. Embarrassed yet relieved I was happy to find my friends, accept a glass of wine and enjoyed a great meal. 

I found out later a phone call to my home out of town had been made as they were wondering where (the heck) I was and what ( the heck) had happened to me. The message is still on my answering machine and after I publish this blog I will check it out. It is nice to know that a search party might have been organized if I had been lost in the woods.  Considering I was safely driving around a lovely neighbourhood, close to downtown landmarks, restaurants and coffeeshops I didn’t really panic except for the realization I was holding up their dinner.

I think I was forgiven but now they know I’m likely to be out there, driving around, looking for myself  and having a senior moment if I’m invited back again. Now they know to just reheat the casserole and uncork the wine because I’ll make it….eventually.


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