Friday, 3 July 2015


I've begun to play up any crossover between Transition Area, where I live, and transition, the personal event. 
I've plotted a few pre-WWII houses on a grid, this accomplished without lament for the loss of the rest of them, and without claiming any link between 2250 Scarth and, say, my left knee.
The idea seems obvious but wouldn't, I assume, with further attention. With a place and a name, where else could I find the story?

Thursday, 2 July 2015

Hat's It for Today

All a hat has to do is stay between my noggin and the sun, unless I let it in. Today it was the Leaf cap, about which I'd once been abused in London. England!
But that's not what I started to say. 
Select Hops is back and running.

Monday, 29 June 2015

New Place to Hang My Hat

I'll need one. Tomorrow I hand over the keyfob to my office at Luther. By mid-July I will have finished working with the Coteau editor of my Globe Theatre history book, after which I'll have to hand over my keys to my GT workspace, where I am at the moment. 
Apart from my bachelor pad in the Frontenac, that will leave my constellation of coffee shops, pubs, park benches, picnic tables, library tables and pool aprons as home-away-from-home workplaces. 
Last night I caught closing night of Mary Poppins at the Globe. I'd been tracking this show since rehearsals started almost two months ago and had seen at least a half-dozen performances. At first, it was simple fascination at watching these skilled actor/singer/dancers grow into and take over their roles. The production side of things (the props-makers, set builders, stichers, etc.)--I couldn't get enough of all that either.
I found myself inspired by their work, all of them, and I used opening night of MP (May 21) as my target for finishing my history of Globe Theatre, of which my Mary Poppins diary, also known as "A History of Right Now", would be the closing chapter (but for an Afterword).
Now that's over too. 
What am I going to do with myself!

Monday, 22 June 2015

New Hat

Stasisfaction, I called it. A pause until what to do next.
Step one was to tell someone I'd build a writing project around my new hat. A straw bowler. The idea was to see what the hat sees (step two). Write it down (three). Until the middle of July.
My hat would carry all the endings lately--my job, application deadlines, other writing projects. Soon I'd realize it was the neighbourhood that the hat was seeing. The hat would hang there.
But so far, this blog entry is all that's come of it. Tomorrow's another morning, though.

Saturday, 30 May 2015

First Post in a While

To clean my entire bathroom just now, I had to remove the laundry hamper and a stroller, a campmat and drying rack, a trombone, a 48-pack Pampers, four folding chairs, 2 stacked child potties, 4 feet of 6x1/2" plank, the hamper lid, a trunk on its end, its fake silk covering, a mat, a loony, and the garbage can.
This is where my life has brought me.
Lately I've been more single-minded than usual over a writing project for Globe Theatre, deadline end of May. See Coteau Books fall catalogue.
Soon I turn my attention to ideas, like English lyrics for Alfredo Marceneiro, the fadista.
But that bathroom. I had to bring in the broom and dustpan, an ounce of Mr.Clean in tub of hot water. These are secrets nobody wants, I realize that.
Hillsdale Book and my forthcoming retirement soiree put on by my employer (Monday, June 15, 3:00, Luther College Room 100) hover. And what's the point of hot water if you let it sit? Off to finish the bathroom.

Saturday, 11 April 2015

Last Day (First Day on the Bike)

I've waited until the day after and there's still not much to say. I didn't see much point in reminding anyone on Friday that this was my last day in the classroom. I'd already agreed with my afternoon class that we'll meet for a beverage on the 24th, after their final exam. That'll be the farewell.
As for my colleagues, the same sweet souls who came to the launch the other night offered brief comments about this last day.
In the end, the end of the week was comedown from the peak of Tuesday night.
And who's got time to think about retirement. I wrote all day at the Globe.

Thursday, 9 April 2015

Second Last Day

It's all sweetness and night now, earlier just the sweetness. My creative writing class and I--a mutual admiration society. (Cue the old, very old, lyric:
to a mu-tu-al
ad-mir-a-tion society,
my baby and me.)
I won't bother with the details, but for a while there I thought I might start to cry.
We were all feeling the peak of the launch/reading, at least I was. One of the students, at the after party the other night, had declared that yes, we have a bit of business to do on Thursday, but after that we'll play "Things In a Box". We had time for two rounds this morning. Everybody, I think, felt it as our last moments around the table. The minute class ends, we're all on to the next thing.
I'll read their stories this weekend and submit the final grades Monday.