furnace working


so we went from cold and wet to holy cow hot today….. I suspect Grace the golden retriever and I are bound for the cool waters of Georgian Bay this afternoon, woof, woof

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Scheming and plotting


had a chat with an old friend who some years back did a low-residency MFA writing degree.  I am contemplating this pour moi.  I need to do some more research, but the initial impression is that Canadian universities do not seem to have embraced the low-residency approach which is widely available in the USA.

I don’t know that I need to adopt this idea since my primary goal is to work out of my current unfocused work and reading.

I wonder if I can’t create my own MFA curriculum with readings and writing assignments.

Over the past few years the Muse seems to have lost my address.   My reading is all over the place.  I have grown weary of reading fiction that is based in murder and other mayhem.  James Lee Burke, Don Wisnlow, and even Stephen White are great storytellers but the immersion in ultra-violence keeps haunting me as a bad place to wander with my imagination and soul.

I first encountered this concern on TV when I watched Homicide: Life on the Streets.  A brilliant show with great writing and acting. And death as a constant and not Agatha Christie deaths but harsh, awfull deaths.  I now watch NCIS and like the characters but wonder about the entertainment in gruesome violence and graphic autopsies.  I suppose one can toss into the argument the blood soaked stage of Hamlet or Macbeth.

Moreabout this after I muse more and mutter less to myself and develop a resolution.

a long walk


some time in January I picked up a bad cold with barking cough and aside from a brief week or so of feeling almost normal, I have had a cold/cough with me all the way to May.  In the last week of April I was in hospital with an irregular heart beat.  My cold/cough is still my best friend despite two courses of antibiotics.  With some new heart meds in the miz, I am feeling a wee bit lightheaded now and then.   All I want for Christmas is to feel normal, the way I felt normal most of last year.  Five months of this shit is just too long.

puzzle bump


something that I had been ignoring has come up and hit me in the face and I am at a loss as to how to deal with it.   It doesn’t just involve me.  It turns out to be the latest episode in a long story of anxiety, avoidance, and the final dividend of sleeping dogs.  It involves a number of things including health and it will be a true puzzle solved if I can work through it.  that should be enigmatic enough.

The week


I have had cheerier weeks.  A friend’s spouse lost to cancer.  Another friend had a stroke but is now home and facing some rehab.  My medications seem to be adjusted and my heart rate down steadily in the normal range.  Now the rain comes and everything can get down to some serious growing.  Sad to watch the news of all the flood threats across North America.