starteda blog for the Midland Area Writers’ Group at
Month: June 2009
dark view of the bloom
buttercups another view
MAWG schedule changed
due to a technical problem with the booking system what was thought to be available was not actually free after all so now the Midland Area Writers’ Group will meet on every second Wednesday of the month from July to December, we will meet in the board room of the Midland Public Library…..
one big buttercup
observational spin
Sometimes I wonder why I live where I do. It is in the country but I dont really spend that much time outdoors. In winter it is cold. In summer the mosquitoes tend to drive me back indoors. It is not like the city. Fewer people, fewer cars, fewer everything. Not as many good movies showing. Not as many good restaurants or stores. Some of both but not much variety. It is near a small town and I have not lived there all my life so I am an outsider who has moved up. From the big smoke. Suspicious, different, more or less tolerated. Not sure where else I would live. I am growing accustomed to my routine and it has very few bumps. Just now a mosquito found a way through the screen and screamed in Stuka-like to my left ear where I swatted her to death. Time for bed and I will dream of Paris or Bloor and Yonge.
MAWG Midland Area Writers’ Group
first meeting is next Tuesday night at 7-8:30 pm at the library in Midland, Ontario.
I looked up MAWG
| MAWG | Middle Aged White Guy |
| MAWG | Minnesota Association of Wheat Growers |
| MAWG | Massachusetts Wing (Civil Air Patrol) |
| MAWG | Message Attachment Work Group |
| MAWG | Modeling and Analysis Working Group |
| MAWG | Military Airlift Wing |
hot dog
it’s definitely summer now, Mr. Dog has required immersion in the cool waters of the bay once each day for the past two days….I always expect him to wade ashore with a fish in his mouth, but none so far.
summer
starts in a couple of hours
oddly things seem very dark right now for the longest day of the year
tonight
no wind and outside in the blackness
over the waters of Georgian Bay a loon
calls a few times and then a little silence
in the far distance a goose mutters —
a small growl from the highway on the far side of the bay
buzz of the moths trying to get in through the window screen
time to turn off the light that draws
— push my head through all the quiet
a bed full of dreams
a pile of books by the mirror
