tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63364252011-11-11T06:31:32.183-10:00Hill of BeansThe pile keeps getting higher.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comBlogger771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1141416248459108572006-03-03T09:51:00.000-10:002006-03-03T10:04:08.473-10:00Random Thoughts#1 - The new Burger Kings ads are just plain creepy.#2 - I've developed a dreadful habit of asking my 11 month old daughter questions as though she might actually respond. (What do you want for lunch? Should we have cheese? After lunch, do you want to read a story? Does your cheese taste yummy? Should mama have some cheese, too?) Ack, what have I become?!!#3- This dude Steve has the funniest Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1135131981617416432005-12-20T16:22:00.000-10:002006-03-03T10:05:18.700-10:00A Really Fantastic DayI submitted my article/post "Guilty Pleasures" to the Winnipeg Free Press last week, and they will be publishing it on Thursday, December 22 in The Tab. Nice 35th birthday present for me!Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1134583898399609622005-12-14T07:56:00.000-10:002005-12-15T06:59:12.756-10:00Guilty PleasuresTis the season to indulge. For some, this means eating three slices of apple pie despite already being stuffed full of two giant helpings of turkey and mashed potatoes. Others subscribe to the “one-for-you and two-for-me” approach to holiday shopping. Me? I eat lip gloss.But let me explain.On Sunday morning, after a weekend of food, drink and lethargy, I woke up with a familiar “what is the Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1133069995866489622005-11-26T18:25:00.000-10:002005-11-26T20:01:55.143-10:00Happy Moussaka Day, EverybodyI'm in a strange, sad mood tonight. Maybe it's because I put up our Christmas tree. You see, whenever big events in my life occur, I buy a Christmas ornament to mark the occasion. For example, when I was pregnant, I bought a cute, little squirrel wearing a toque and scarf. (Yes, Rhonda, I bought it to remind Sean never to downplay his love for squirrels, wives, or daughters!) Last year, I bought Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132992010280287022005-11-25T21:59:00.000-10:002005-11-25T22:00:10.283-10:00CrashLast weekend, I watched the movie Crash ... twice. Interestingly, I just read a review by a writing professor in Florida who hated this film. She argues, "If you enjoy a movie only in the moment—and the same with a book—there’s little chance of you returning to it, either to think about it or reread it." But, I enjoyed this movie. In fact, I enjoyed this movie in the moment and now, one week Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132952316340987362005-11-25T10:57:00.000-10:002005-11-25T10:58:36.350-10:00Oh, Mother Vol. 2This one's even funnier. Please, don't call CFS on me!Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132778721965227112005-11-23T10:39:00.000-10:002005-11-26T18:25:51.416-10:00Oh, Mother Vol. 1Today, I took Rowan's Christmas picture. I stripped her naked, put a silly hat on her head and stuck her in a box. As you can see, she was not amused.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132639171369582342005-11-21T19:51:00.000-10:002005-11-21T20:01:36.153-10:00Home Ultra-Sweet HomeI'm feeling festive. I know what you're thinking. Where's Darla, and what have you done with her? And, last week, I baked a cake! Relax, the motherfucker bombed. In fact, one might say it resembled a biscuit.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132459458595399252005-11-19T18:01:00.000-10:002005-11-19T21:06:29.283-10:00Huh?!Apparently doggie strollers are a big ticket item this Christmas. Call me crazy, but I don't get this? Seriously, wtf?Also, please note that "biscuit" is NOT a slang term for vagina. (However, honeypot, pleasure boat, yum-yum and hey-nonny-nonny are all recognized euphemisms.)Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1132458177175342832005-11-19T16:30:00.000-10:002005-11-19T17:42:57.236-10:00Bulletholes and BandagesTonight I have been thinking about the human capacity to hurt and heal. I don't know about you, but I spend most of my time wounded and shooting. Sure, most of my bullets come from accidental misfires, the careless handling of hearts and tongues, but I'm guilty as charged nonetheless. Rowan woke up crying a few minutes ago. I tended to her mysterious ailment with the tenderness and determinationDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1124166269461597112005-08-15T18:10:00.000-10:002005-11-19T17:44:58.770-10:00Mindless Musings of a Mad HousewifeMy mind is vibrating with a need to write something, but I live a quiet and ordinary life these days. My dear, sweet Rowan. We play with toys and giggle mostly. I sing. She coos. We smile. Yesterday, while she slept, I worked the soil in my flower garden. Something magical has happened to me, people. I'm thinking long and hard about that mini-van and I-told-you-so's are resounding all throughout Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1119376634538941932005-06-21T07:57:00.000-10:002005-11-19T20:54:57.833-10:00It's A Girl!Since I intend to fire up this blog again someday soon, allow me to introduce the reason for my absence: Rowan Mae McFarlane GautamaBorn April 14, 2005 9:20 am Weight 7 lbs. 4 oz. Length 19.75 in.Hello? Anybody out there? Hellooooo?Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1107897026216062492005-02-08T11:27:00.000-10:002005-11-19T17:45:37.536-10:00Mexico You have not lived unless you have ridden a Mexican bus from Puerto Vallarta to the small surf town of Sayulita. Let me paint you a picture:The mode of transportation is an old, battered school bus, complete with an exterior of patchwork metal, cracked windows and an assortment of makeshift parts. Inside, the seats are stained and torn, some seat cushions, even the seats themselves, are missing Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1098222556622950122004-10-19T11:26:00.000-10:002005-11-19T17:45:51.960-10:00Great CanadiansGreat CanadiansI was pleased to learn that Terry Fox, Tommy Douglas and Frederick Banting made CBC's top ten list of greatest Canadians. Truthfully, I don't even mind the inclusion of the always controversial Pierre Eliot Trudeau with such mighty company. Must say though, the idea of Shania Twain ranking higher on the list than Nellie McClung sends me into a bit of a tizzy. Perhaps I fail to see Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1097618873618150652004-10-12T10:04:00.000-10:002005-11-19T17:46:16.350-10:00The Real Un-Canadian SuperstoreI went grocery shopping at Superstore over my lunch hour today. As I scanned the aisles in search of tomato sauce, I heard a child's voice say, "Ask her." In response, I looked down, way down, and saw two young, way young, waifish little boys standing in front of the fruit spreads in search of raspberry jam. I handed them a jar of Kraft and began my interrogation: "You boys sure must be big and Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1096049872037826392004-09-24T08:16:00.000-10:002004-09-24T08:32:15.543-10:00What comes first?
A Chicken and an egg are lying in bed. The chicken is leaning
against the headboard smoking a cigarette, with a satisfied smile on its face. The egg, looking a bit pissed off, grabs the sheet, rolls over,and says, "Well, I guess we finally answered THAT question.
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1094790410910640302004-09-09T17:42:00.001-10:002004-09-09T18:30:13.883-10:00The R Word
I should start with an apology because I should just keep this shit to myself. But lately I've been thinking a lot about regret. Celebrities are smug bastards. Everytime I see celebrities being interviewed on television, they feel compelled to describe their extraordinary lives, announce how lucky they are, insist that they have, gulp, no regrets.
"Well, Oprah, Sometimes life is damnDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1093898415800185472004-08-30T10:17:00.000-10:002004-08-31T08:04:15.870-10:00Reflections
Undoubtedly, 2004 has been the biggest, most important year of my life. The only fitting analogy I can come up with is the notion of Clark Kent entering his little phone booth and emerging moments later in full Superman garb. Yup, 2004 has been my phone booth.
I find it incredibly moving that while learning the extent of my own vulnerabilities, I have found new muscle with which toDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1093127934582995042004-08-21T12:34:00.001-10:002005-07-22T21:34:09.463-10:00Oh, Times, They are a ChangingI am pregnant. What can I tell ya? It's early. I feel bloated. My nipples are tingly. I wish the sun would shine so I can show off my new boobs in a bikini!Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1091676604762967612004-08-04T17:30:00.000-10:002004-09-24T05:21:01.863-10:00Sucker
When I was a young girl growing up in rural manitoba, me and my pals would play a game known simply as Tree or Bush?
~~~~
She plucks a strand of tall prairie grass from the earth, holds it upright between her finger and thumb, and presents it to me like an offering. Suddenly, I stop. My eyes narrow and focus. My body straightens and strains. Alert. Poised. I am ready to face this Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1091631507462401452004-08-04T04:35:00.000-10:002004-08-04T05:08:47.716-10:00This or That?
My summer has been mostly disappointing. Nothing but "grown-up" decisions like fixed rate or variable? New or used? Sofa or sectional? Decisions, decisions, and more fucking decisions.
Even my pathetic one week holiday in Rushing River was spent deciding whether to stay or go: stay, despite the unrelenting cloud cover and rain? Or go home and do something useful like shop for Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1090077801710477242004-07-17T05:23:00.000-10:002005-07-22T21:34:43.376-10:00This one's for you, Hun Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1090076968184893472004-07-17T04:29:00.000-10:002004-09-24T05:22:21.256-10:00Leakage
Lisa has left. I hope the Winnipeg Folk Festival was a scrumptious hors d'oeuvre before the the full meal deal that is the Ness Creek Festival. Ness: Featuring Ruthie Foster. Wish I could be there with her. Muddy toes. Sun-baked shoulders. Sore lungs. Ahhhhh, festival magic.
Leslie has arrived. My Brazilian Queen of Contemplation. I can count on her to provide some fodder for Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1089128943098400512004-07-06T05:11:00.001-10:002004-07-17T06:16:43.540-10:00Such Fun!
Lisa is here. In my home, in my town, in my life. I am giddy, and each day is fabulous. Today, especially. It is her birthday, which, of course, demands that I gather all the wonderful women in my life together to celebrate.
But, I'm going to need a month to detox my body before attempting to make a baby, or my eggs are going to come out all booze-soaked and groggy. Like the Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1088802912934533022004-07-02T10:36:00.001-10:002005-07-22T21:35:57.700-10:00Confessions#1 - I love Canada Day. Yesterday, we were drunk on patriotism, real or imagined. We smiled at strangers. We danced in the streets. We waved our flags with pride and fervor. Today, we crawl back into our basements, reattach ourselves to the lazy-boy and resume our tirade about high taxes and crooked politicians. I find this incredibly amusing. #2 - I did not love The Station Agent. ItDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1088569707042475472004-06-29T18:20:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:00:32.583-10:00Left and Leaning
Canadians have spoken. Apparently, disgust is easier to swallow than fear. Sure, it all tastes like shit, but let's celebrate the Liberal victory with a peace song by the lovely Sarah Harmer ... Coming soon to a Folk Festival near ME!
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1088191934943648752004-06-25T08:38:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:01:47.196-10:00My Voyeuristic Tendencies
Lisa is gallavanting around NYC like an ass-kicking freebird and, although I admire her independence, I am deprived of her daily dose of blog supremacy. The proverbial silver-lining will reveal itself when she shows up on my doorstep with a suitcase full of stories -- witty, adventure-laden narratives about brash, urban hipsters, drag queens, soup nazis, heroin addicts,Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1087928773188394312004-06-22T08:19:00.001-10:002004-07-02T07:11:26.930-10:00Democracy for Dummies
Unsure who to vote for in the upcoming federal election? Try this quiz
Exercise your right to be completely apathetic and irresponsible in the face of party politics!Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1087908590694128952004-06-22T02:49:00.000-10:002005-07-22T21:36:35.670-10:00Mission AccomplishedWith sweet sentiments sent skyward and a few tears spent, we were desperate for a good laugh. So we decided to send Dave a beer. If it rains today, I'm catching a few drops on my tongue. Cheers to Dave. Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1087708738090134112004-06-19T19:06:00.000-10:002005-07-22T21:37:16.916-10:00Up, Up and AwayOn Father's Day, we're having a family barbecue. Bradley made Dave a card at nursery school, so we're going to tie it to a helium balloon and send it up to heaven. I imagine, we'll all toss a few "coins" skyward. Ritual can be strangely comforting even for those of us with spiritual deficiencies.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1087320022833249972004-06-15T07:03:00.001-10:002005-07-22T21:37:34.056-10:00Save or Spend?Sometimes when I eat PBJ sandwiches at my desk, I am struck with unusual thoughts. Like this one: what would this world be like if words were our currency? On whom would you spend your earnings? I'd have high risk investments, maxed-out credit cards and a constant twinge of buyer's remorse.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1086742697852758612004-06-08T14:55:00.000-10:002005-07-22T21:38:03.560-10:00CuteSean and I love the television series Northern Exposure. Finally, the first season is out on DVD. We ordered it. Guess what? The DVD case comes wrapped in a little orange parka. With a zipper in front and everything. How adorable.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1086741248268052502004-06-08T14:14:00.000-10:002005-07-22T21:38:53.226-10:00In Search of Multi-GrainThe time has come to shed my slick, urban ways. I'm trading sushi and martinis at Wasabi for clubhouse sandwiches and free refills of sodapop at G'News family restaurant. Yes, it's true: Sean and I have purchased a home in the safe and lovely town of Oakbank, Manitoba. Truthfully, I'm very excited. It's a fabulous house with a beautiful yard. Near my sisters and mom. Just Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1086354749673765302004-06-04T03:12:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:18:23.430-10:00When the Going "Gits" Tough ...
I never did get around to that lifting-of-the-chin ceremony. Ready. Heave. Trudge on.
Carson, Our Little Git
It all starts with a smile, and what a smile it is.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1085643013836817132004-05-26T21:26:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:06:40.476-10:00Hill of Sad?
One sad, two sad, and so the story goes. Yup, the pile just keeps getting higher.
David Bradley Bate July 13, 1965 - May 23, 2004 Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1085170706767620222004-05-21T10:15:00.000-10:002004-06-21T14:57:54.280-10:00The Burial Ground
Under this blanket of silt and sky,
I am with you.
Peering over the horizon,
a sturdy witness to my own fruitless searches.
This slow unraveling is a wonder even to me,
who pulls the threads without care or responsibility
if only to say, I am moving.
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1085109654486743012004-05-20T16:48:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:54:18.113-10:00Jiffy Yoga
I think I have adult attention deficit disorder. I can't be alone with my thoughts for one quiet moment, which explains why I've been neglecting my blog lately. (I'm ashamed to admit it, but these quips of mine take some mental muscle!)I've been on course most of this week (as a student, not the instructor)and while everyone else is blessed with insight and inspiration, I become Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1084417478684844882004-05-12T17:01:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:55:50.210-10:00Cheese n' Beans
Check out my swanky new blog page. Look, I can add silly pictures!
Welcome to the Bean Hill. Santa hats, optional. Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1084323623946567012004-05-11T14:53:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:58:11.493-10:00Snow in May?
Has someone forgotten her place in the divine order of our universe, killed a king maybe? If life was a Shakespearean play, despite all the chaos and confusion of universal disorder and supernatural display, I'd be the clown in the corner, using vulgar language and passing gas.
Sure, I'm joking, but our world really is fucked up. We are so small and helpless. Did you see the news Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1083808989996077082004-05-05T15:55:00.000-10:002004-06-10T07:04:44.083-10:00Last Straws
Here i am
tossing last straws to the wind
as if we did not know, mixed with a little mud,
we might shape these elements into something worth keeping.
tell me, if i build it with my own to hands,
will it be mine?
what's around the corner, hoola-hoop girl,
more edges to scrape our hearts on?
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1083564240740476972004-05-02T19:45:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:19:43.430-10:00Television Windows
Going out for beers on a sunday night lights up all sorts of possibilities. Why spend another minute looking through television windows when Thailand awaits us. Or Indonesia. India. Africa. The world is our playground. If only I didn't have to work on Monday.
Today I learned 'choices' and 'possibilities' are not the same thing: 'choices' are shit. If it weren't 2 a.m. I'd Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1083480146954697422004-05-01T20:19:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:08:43.323-10:00Toad in the Hole
I was at the toad last night. First time in two plus years. Wendy and I spent a lot of time there. We had a table. When I was leaving, I went up to our spot and rested my hand on the tabletop for a moment. Tapped it lightly with my palm. Then left, full of old jokes and stories.
I never dreamed my body could play host to such sadness. I am learning, Dear Dana, how to be sad Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1083478404233338722004-05-01T20:01:00.000-10:002004-09-12T07:21:53.163-10:00Musician in the Family
I need a friend who can't sing, if only to send my confidence soaring. I can barely chirp my way through a round of Twinkle Twinkle, yet it seems everyone around me is a goddamn musical genius. I hate you all! My sink-hole-o-matic is going to take you down! Then it'll just be me, crooning in the moonlight, eyes closed, heartfelt and joyful despite all my imperfection.
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1082733444757096042004-04-23T05:15:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:12:13.273-10:00Sink-hole-o-matic
I'm building an invention. It should be done soon. Then, I press a magic red button and all the space between Winnipeg and Saskatoon plummets into the Earth's centre, and Lisa is only a Sunday afternoon stroll away.
Yes, we'll lose Kamsack, Humboldt, Virden, but what have they done for us lately? And, Brandon? Perhaps, reason enough to fire up the sink-hole-o-matic. Just Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1082657159473012152004-04-22T07:54:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:13:08.150-10:00Pulling-up-of-Socks Ceremony
I know it's sandal season, but I have taken the day off work to participate in a private pulling-up-of-socks ceremony. Here I am. Standing. Ready. Bend. Pull. Higher. Good.
Tune in tomorrow for the lifting-of-the-chin ceremony. It shall be equally exciting.
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1082270777286511842004-04-17T20:30:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:13:49.963-10:00What now?
Where do I put it all? Is there a top shelf or a bottom drawer big enough?
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1081903020749753052004-04-13T14:29:00.000-10:002004-07-03T03:34:58.693-10:00Hawksley in the House
Tomorrow, I will be home, writing a eulogy for Wendy's funeral. Then I'm leaving for Edmonton on Thursday morning. I'll be home Saturday just in time for my date with Hawksley .Oh, sweet musical reprieve.
Hawksley Workman Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1081830595270124912004-04-12T18:14:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:26:23.596-10:00The Light of Summer
Spring is in the air. I have been chasing memories and almost missed the shifts and groans of Earth's renewal. I emerge from this cruel winter with muddy shoes and wet lashes. There are marks on my body only I can see, even in the light of summer.
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1081530625005914422004-04-09T07:09:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:21:58.880-10:00Wendy
Wendelyn Sue Sider Mihalchuk
December 29, 1970 - April 8, 2004Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1081206166934973482004-04-05T12:44:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:28:24.580-10:00Live From the Varscona Hotel, Edmonton, Alberta
Amazingly, Wendy is still hanging in there. She is mostly unresponsive, but was alert for a while this morning. It was quite an honour and privilege to be able to look her in the eyes (well, her one good eye!) and say a loving goodbye. After a few tender parting words, she made a joke about being too tired and stoned to cry, but encouraged me to Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1081138959324730352004-04-04T17:54:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:26:10.626-10:00A Final Visit
Arrived Friday night, weary after a long trip. Wendy was cozily tucked into her bed by the time we got to the house, but we snuck in a short visit. It seems her tiny, useless frame serves only one purpose: to support her big, persistent smile. Despite everything, she is sassy and joyful; it is strength and courage beyond anything I ever could've imagined. After a long, exhausting Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1080846880613772652004-04-01T09:07:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:32:40.806-10:00Happy Birthdays
Sister Lisa, Dana, Michelle - In case all hell breaks loose and I don't get a chance to talk with you: Happy Birthday!
And, I mean, damn happy - so happy you could burst kinda happy. Play with your kids. Make love to your men. Eat chocolate. Bask in the pring sunshine. En JOY! En JOY! En JOY!
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1080846021790490032004-04-01T08:56:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:35:43.233-10:00La Muerta
Forgive me
If you are not living
If you, beloved, have died
All the leaves will fall upon my breast
It will rain on my soul
all night, all day
My feet will want to march to where you are sleeping
But I shall go on living.
~ Pablo Neruda
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1080791779295924202004-03-31T17:47:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:37:21.150-10:00Here's to Friends
Two lovely phone conversations with two lovely friends reminding me I am loved by at least two lovely people no matter how many tantrums I muster.
Dana. Tracey. Thank you.
You, Dr. Paas, deserve a super dooper belated birthday greeting from the homeland. I still have the big metal Aries ring you gave me in high school. I'm going to wear it tomorrow. And, if I punch anyone, Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1080686176218389392004-03-30T12:22:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:38:39.636-10:00Holy Tantrum Batman!
Consider this fair warning: from here on in, things are going to be dismal. If you don't like it, don't check in. These days, I'm black to the core. I suppose this is the anger phase. I am volatile. Pure rage. For seven months now, I've done an inventory of all my relationships, wasted energies, misplaced affections, royal fuck-ups and failures. From here on in, I plan on Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1079545054984841672004-03-17T06:48:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:42:44.303-10:00That Evasive Little Bird Called Memory
I remember ... Wendy and I. 23 years old. A smalltown bar in southern Manitoba. Winter.
I remember ...She smoked Du Maurier lights kingsize and drank Molson Dry from the bottle.
I remember ... The shape of the room and tables. There was a strip of VLTs along the east wall of the bar; i'd never seen VLTs before.
I remember ...Getting caught in a Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1078889492365238112004-03-09T17:27:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:44:22.006-10:00Leonids
it was november
i went looking for leonids but found holes instead.
and you.
but, i don't think it was really you.
you are smoke and wildfire burning down all that you need.
i am a gardener growing these spaces between.
november has come and gone
and i feel full
but, anger is an empty plate
when you're hungry for stars
Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1078721733953132292004-03-07T18:11:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:50:00.600-10:00Passion of the Prairie Girl
Tried to see The Passion of the Christ with Tracey and Jeff on Saturday night, but it was sold out. On a whim, we decided to go bowling. Yes, bowling. After two very exciting games, we followed up our adventure with ... well, sushi, of course.
Bowling. Sushi. Makes perfect sense to me.
Ladies, Jeff and I want to know how often you WANT sex? This is a very importantDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1078333711438937332004-03-03T07:01:00.000-10:002004-07-02T05:51:36.843-10:00Trilogies
yesterday, i did three things. i ate fusilli pasta with ground round sauce. i played a song on my guitar. i took a warm bath. i did three things yesterday. i bought some books at a book sale. i spoke with a friend on the telephone. i argued with sean about money. yesterday, three things: i shaved my legs. i played fetch with my cat. i dreamed about battleships.
i have no idea what itDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1078195922903511782004-03-01T16:35:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:28:53.606-10:00All Work and No Play Makes Darla a Grumpy Bitch
I am buried in work. I know there's more to life, but I just happen to have one of those personalities that is completely prone to obsession. And I would know because I am currently developing yet another workshop based on personality type theory, known in consulting circles as Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI).
This workshop is called Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1077829527476011812004-02-26T11:02:00.001-10:002004-07-02T07:03:45.930-10:00Jonah-ha-ha
So yesterday I walked into a Zen burger joint and asked the guy behind the counter to make me one with everything.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1077812801595934392004-02-26T06:06:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:10:10.973-10:00Beautiful Art
I saw the film Lost in Translation on Tuesday night. You know that loaded moment just before a first kiss? this film is that moment on film in 98 minutes.
I left the theatre reminded of everything and everyone I've ever wanted. And, what an ending! Language, tangled up in whispers and hair.
Hungry and full all at once.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1077595551174511652004-02-23T17:50:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:06:54.546-10:00Just Shit
Today, I learned that another friend has cancer, breast cancer. Relativity is a peculiar thing. I am comforted because she has been given a fighting chance -- a battle Wendy will never know.
I remember when life was easy. Like Friday, for example: skating on the river on a delicious winter night, all frost-kissed and runny-nosed.
Hey girlfriend, don't let go. I'm not ready to be Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1077306578874700902004-02-20T09:39:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:09:17.023-10:00Soul Patch
Sean has grown a soul patch. Men are so lucky.
Women, imagine owning a cute little tuft of chin hair -- deliberately grown! not to be plucked! With such a chichi little name ... soul patch.
I told him that I liked it, and he asked me if I wanted to hop on and take it for a ride. Naughty boy.
Oh, Sean Brightly, you make me smile all over.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1077051063920078252004-02-17T10:38:00.000-10:002004-07-02T07:11:20.030-10:00Closing Time
The poetry closet is now officially closed. The well of imagination, depleted. I lost my entire hard drive last year and said "so long" to every word I've ever written: essays. plays. short stories. poetry. the works. The mindworks. Such disasters only happen to me. I'm cursed, you see. Any minute an army tank is going to veer off course and crash into my office. If not today, then Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076996681898426142004-02-16T19:37:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:54:20.366-10:00Casablanca Inspired Poetry
Some nights, the words are a bothersome hum in a windy and whirling corner of my mind. I want to write, but reach for old poems instead. Like this one. for lisa, written in 1999. Golly gee, I can be so damn sentimental sometimes.
iLsa
i chase you through Casablanca
kicking a stone toward the sound of song
the scene is small and black and white
piano keys
if you Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076950018788464062004-02-16T06:46:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:52:05.416-10:00Bum Darts
I was introduced to the delightful game of bum darts on Saturday.
Bum Darts: Put a loonie between your butt cheeks. Clench so it stays in place. Walk across the room, still clenching and holding firm. Crouch over a cup. Release. If the loonie lands in the cup, you win!Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076949434388949472004-02-16T06:35:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:50:20.363-10:00Babies Galore
Congratulations to Bart and Brandi. A baby boy on saturday. Quickly I move from death to birth. Such is the circle of life, folks.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076614845559081522004-02-12T09:22:00.001-10:002004-07-02T06:25:12.270-10:00The Waste Land
Apparently, my preoccupation with death and my own spiritual deficiency is a frequently visited theme in this little life of mine. Me and Eliot (Thomas Stern, that is), roaming through the waste land , looking into the heart of light.Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076373464613591192004-02-09T14:35:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:23:52.633-10:00Preservation
if i had a god, i’m sure he’d be angry. a goddess might just wink and smile, shake her head in that knowing little way. but i have none. only this unforgiving humanity, anointed in bath-salt water and, if it’s been a good day, a dab of honest sweat and lust.
i spend a great deal of time thinking about preservation. dinosaurs and lucy and rocks. tools fascinate me, little chisels Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1076344189693394342004-02-09T05:24:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:22:32.843-10:00Food For Thought
Last weekend revolved entirely around food. The dining room table may be our sacred and ceremonial Telling Place, but god does not live there. Trust me, I looked.
There are tribes in south america that eat their dead, grind the bones and ash into soup. Methinks, western ritual lacks substance. We fill up on bread and talk, clink together a couple of wine glasses and call it a Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1075443978943532932004-01-29T20:25:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:52:10.606-10:00Curried Thoughts
My turmeric-stained fingertips give me away. I've been in the kitchen pretending to be an Indian. An entire evening of cooking in preparation for tomorrow's dinner party with the dearest of friends. The menu: auntie Usha's delish chicken curry. Dhal. Chana Masala. Chapati. And beer, in copious amounts. Well, dip me in chutney and call me Madhumati, I am ready! It seems brain Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1075317346966077402004-01-28T09:15:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:47:35.260-10:00Two Minds
I am reinventing the phrase 'i am of two minds.'
It no longer implies ambiguity or indecisiveness. Instead, it is a state of being meant only for the deeply wounded. One mind is needed to function -- dress. eat. work. be. The second becomes fully engaged in the Act of Sadness.
Today, I am of two minds. Will tomorrow never come?Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1075223548583764712004-01-27T06:49:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:46:16.306-10:00Insomnia = Urges
I'm full of urges today. Like I want to pinch fat people.
Or maybe I'm all mixed up because I've been listening to too much Tori Amos. It's enough to fuck the clearest of minds, and I'm fuzzy on the best of days.
My cat keeps me awake at night. Walking on my pillow. Digging in the blankets. That's what I get for naming him after an Argentinean dance. Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1074894286303315292004-01-23T11:44:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:20:29.606-10:00Peering into the Depths of My Soul
Yesterday I flogged my blog to the world! What's a blog, you say? Something sexy, you hope?
Sean says: "Smidgen. A good word that doesn't get enough use or credit! If only I had a smidgen of intelligence, wit, or pride, I'd be a better man. This shitty steak needs a smidgen of salt. Move over a smidgen, Darla."
Rhonda says: "I was expecting porn."
Vaughn Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1074788136470319242004-01-22T05:41:00.000-10:002004-07-02T06:19:14.843-10:00Blessing Way
Sunday was Michelle's Blessing Way. I knelt at the altar with a community of fierce and loving women, our hands and voices mingled in solidarity and song. Dear dana leading us at least to clarity, if not some measure of true spiritual enlightenment. It was Sunday after all, and my goddess hides in long naps and good books saved for these lazy days.
Leslie, you were with us, and IDarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6336425.post-1074206647385205442004-01-15T12:43:00.000-10:002004-06-25T11:40:19.080-10:00The Bean Hill
One bean. Two beans. Three beans. And so the story goes. Darhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15979839769652922254noreply@blogger.com