How VERY Dare She
2023 in Poetic Review (In The Middle of the Night In a Cottage)
So, I’m in a cottage somewhere in north-eastern Ontario and it’s 4:30am AND after pizza and cake for dinner…LATE dinner…such a late dinner BUT cake, am I right?…yes, it seems the late-in-the-day food combo and this bed being somehow firmer than a cement floor and Jo’s VERY VOCAL forever wish to be on the bed…it seems that sleep will be eluding me for a while. I used to get very anxious when this would happen, counting the hours as they rolled by, sleep (and happiness) moving farther and farther away from me, and feeling the negativity demon fully take over…
A Year From Now…
You know those memes...the ones that are all... "A year from now you'll look back and be glad you (insert challenging thing here)" ...well, they piss me off...and inspire me, in equal measure...just keeping it real. And today, I realized that I'm actually at one of those "A year from now" moments and it rocked my socks a bit. These socks, to be exact... ...which I think need to be celebrated because, if you have thick calves, you will KNOW how hard it is to find high socks that fit. And these do. So, it goes without saying that today…
The Year Burt Reynolds Came – A CHRISTMAS STORY
Recently, I went to my storage space... ...FYI, I've talked about my storage space SO much (due to the THREE times I downsized said storage space) THAT I now sing a little song about it when I tell friends I'm going to my STORAAAGGGEEE SPAAAAACE... ...so, I went to my STROOOORAAAGGGEEE SPACCCCCEEEEEE to get my little Christmas tree and ornaments. I threw that artificial evergreen in the back of my Subaru, drove it down the DVP, dragged it up to my condo, put it in it's predestined space, plugged the lights in...AND they didn't work. I tried everything. Okay, to…
FACEBOOK: 29 Years Ago Today? You Got Married!
"You never really get closure, do you?... The idea that the creative impulse is a way to get rid of poison... or a kind of creative defecation...no, they don't teach that in college..." - Stephen King, HOLLY DISCLAIMER: Before you start reading this, please know that writing of it was fucking exhausting, I almost quit 34 times (I counted), it took half of a week to complete, I lost my nerve a fair number times (I didn’t count) and I had at least 100 voices telling me that I should just shut the fuck up...the last of which…
The Summer I Stopped Sucking In My Stomach
“In the end, she became more than what she expected. She became the journey, and like all journeys, she did not end, she just simply changed directions and kept going” -r.m. drake “In the end, this post may keep me single forever…and so be it.” -s.d. matthews Okay, now that we’re all alone here, Warriors and Warrior-Supporters… …and I KNOW we’re alone because only a VERY distinct type of human is gonna read something with this title which is, quite honestly, SPECIFICALLY why I used it… …so, now that it’s just us…and maybe the ten people who will…
My Good Old Bike is a Bit Broke…and Me.
DISCLAIMER: I am TOTALLY supposed to be writing something else…three something else’s right now…but I’ve had a day. About 20 minutes ago, I stood at the counter of my neighbourhood bike shop, watching Mark the masked (good for you, sir) bike tech peruse my fifteen year old tank of a bike. A bike that, you might remember if you’ve been following along, I bought with a large mason jar full of change during a time when I had less than no money. She’s been running a bit rough this year and I started to have nightmares of her just collapsing…
June: The Best Month Ever. My Stomach: A Work in Progress.
I cannot sleep. It’s just past 7:20am and I’ve been awake for about an hour now on this Saturday morning at the ass-end of June. Speaking of ass-ends, the reason I’m awake is that my stomach, which has been a seemingly unending Rubik’s Cube of indifference since I started periomenopause… SIDEBAR: PERIOMENOPAUSE - a word that I hate invoking as much as I really deplore having to use the phrase “when my marriage ended” to qualify a before and after time in my life, so much so that I think it’s about time to have a well intended reflection on…
Hiking, Menopause and an Existential Crisis.
Cramps. Yes. I said CRAMPS. (Dear Men, this post is about menopause and hiking…if either interest you, maybe read on…if not, all the best, till next time!) Cramps. Cramps. Cramps. And not the period kind, thank fuck…although about two weeks ago, I was CERTAIN that after more than a year of menopause I was getting my period. Which was maddening and hinted at a physical chaos that I wasn’t ready to indulge. BUT I think THAT almost-period was just a hormonal surge that still happens almost every month. And this cyclical event is something that I’ve discovered through my OWN…
Just SING.
The first time I knew that I could probably sing, I was standing in the pit of the auditorium at Hill Park Secondary School on Hamilton mountain. A little sidebar, I actually thought Hamilton Mountain...which is really an escarpment...was a REAL mountain until I saw the Rockies, which is not the point of this tale but I thought it needed to be said... ...because perspective is absolutely everything. That day in the auditorium pit I was thirteen years old, leaning on an old-as-dirt upright piano, with Ms. Mac (for short...I cannot remember what it was short for...that is what we…
I‘ve Got A Good Life…and…
I’ve got a good life. I really do. It’s taken me almost 55 years to begin to believe that when my life is good, it won’t burn up like the paper on a cigarette when you light it and take a drag…or that the other shoe won’t drop. Yes, I still miss smoking almost 25 years later…I don’t do it…but sometimes, yes, GOD I miss it AND I love shoes…except when they drop. I don’t write on here a lot anymore. It’s strange, now that I write as part of my living I use my creative time for that and…