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Ragged

The Giggles

I find myself slouched in a vinyl library chair, hand to my mouth in an attempt to prevent their escape. It's inevitable, really, once they start. You read a line and it makes you smile to yourself. An inward smile that soon shows itself on the outside. The scene in the book doesn't end, though, it keeps getting funnier and funnier. The smile grows to a grin, which is awkward enough. To sit by yourself, grinning foolishly at a book, in public, seems a little undignified.
And then.
You can't contain it.
Oh, you can try. Cheeks stretched about as far as they can go in that grin that just won't die, you try to keep the laugh inside. But it won't be kept. The more you try the stranger your facial expressions become. It will twist your lips into something resembling a grimace and bring tears to your eyes. If you're like me, you start to get red and hot, because keeping a laugh inside is hard work.
Eventually part of it escapes, and it comes out like an embarrassed little sound. Not a sneeze or a cough, but more of a squeak. And then that seems funny, which just pushes you over the edge.
You have to laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a full burst-out-loud-laugh-till-there's-no-sound-coming-out-just-silently-shaking kind of thing.
Or you primly find your bookmark, place it, and put your book away, desperately thinking unfunny thoughts. Put your coat on and wander the shelves, feigning interest in all manner of books while you try to forget one of the funniest pieces of writing you've ever read.

Lime

Downtown Saskatoon

Winter in the Park

The Saskatoon Club

Transition

As first days go, this one was alright. Time in the kitchen cooking up new recipes mixed with some R&R makes for a good January 1st. The holiday season is over, and it's time to look ahead. In the coming months I anticipate starting my training for the Saskatchewan Marathon in May. I look forward to the poetry class I've enrolled in, starting in February. I'm going to attempt to post a new picture every day on my photo blog.
Most of all, I look forward to this being a year of growth; of learning new things, and maturing in my faith. I want to make the next 365 days of 2008 count.

Snow Tires

Do It Anyway

I haven't totally lost it. After a few months of not running a step, I had to burn off some energy tonight. I geared up and opened the door to the brisk night air. Aaahh....refreshing. Until my legs got numb. I credit the lack of feeling in my lower extremities with being able to run 3k without stopping. Despite being improperly dressed on the bottom half, I quite enjoyed my run tonight and promptly entered the Saskatchewan Marathon (to run the half) when I got home. (Which I'm going to do with my running partner and sister, right Sher?)
I've had a number of excuses for not running during the past couple of months, most of which had to do with it being too cold and me not having the right winter wear. I finally decided to just go with what I have. This resulted in me wearing my half marathon t-shirt from the past summer, a sweatshirt, a windbreaker-type jacket from the second-hand store, and jeans that are artificially paint-splattered. That's right, I ran in jeans. Loose-fitting, mind you, but jeans nonetheless. If you crack open a running magazine, you will never hear them advocate running in jeans. But it works, if necessary.
With that in mind, I decided that drive and desire will beat fancy gear every time. If you really want to do something, find a way and make it happen. There will always be things that don't fall into place, but the effort is worth it.

"I think once again how much I like this life. It feels purloined in a way, or like a prize. First prize for not waiting. For not waiting to splash in a river, for not promising myself that I would someday splash in a river, but for doing it now, right now, before destiny or some other interloper stops by to tell me there's been a change of plans."
~ from A Thousand Days in Tuscany, by Marlena de Blasi

Out Of Tune

It seems that tuning a guitar is not quite like riding a bike. Nicole's family is having Christmas at our house today, and her niece and nephew received guitars from their grandma. As they were quite obviously out of tune, I volunteered to tune them. Although I don't have a natural ear for music, back in the day I did learn how to turn my guitar by ear and thought I could surely still do it. Not so much, as it turns out. They are better now, if only not quite so out of tune.
I took numerous videos of them rocking out for us, because what's better than seeing yourself pretending to be a rockstar on TV? (Isn't that what Guitar Hero is all about?)

All this has stirred some nostalgia in me, and I miss my old cream-colored guitar. Perhaps this will be the year I buy myself a new one. Or a drum kit. Or maybe I should stick with my trusty old air guitar.

Keep On Rockin in the Free World

Power ballads delivered soulfully. Number one rock hits pumped out with gusto. The crowd cheering, clapping, shouting, and dancing. Every fan satisfied.

The Bon Jovi concert last night was everything I hoped it would be. They rocked and they rolled for 2 solid hours, and had I lost my voice it would not have been a surprise. I sang my heart out along with Jon and Ritchie, and had such a good time watching these rock veterans do their thing. That they still love playing together was evident from the word go. They mesh as only a band that's been together for 25 years can.

Before I'd even left the arena I was hoping they would come back so I could see them again.

Afternoons With Emily

A perfect piece of prose, published posthumously.

From the pen of Rose MacMurray flows the flawless fiction of Miranda Chase and her friendship with one Miss Emily Dickinson. There is not a word out of place in this engaging story. The pace is steady, and the journey is one of the heart. We join Miranda when she is still called Ara, and just a wee child with the threat of consumption hanging over her. Her odyssey takes us to Barbados and Amherst and all over again. Growing and learning through love, war, and loss Miranda develops a friendship of sorts with renowned poet Emily Dickinson. Though hard-pressed to call it a frienship of equals, Miranda was nevertheless one of the few souls Emily would let into her private world.
Above all, Afternoons With Emily is the story of a woman who overcame the adversities of life with grace and dignity, while exhibiting a humanity that puts the finishing touches of realism on our fictional heroine.

The fact that this book was published nine years after the author's death by her children and husband makes it all the more enchanting. It was the only novel ever written by Rose MacMurray, an accomplished poet herself.

If you can spare the time, this journey is worth your while.

You Had Me At Hello

I tend to be a quick judge when it comes to picking out books. I'll scan the shelves, looking for something that catches my eye, with either an interesting cover or title. Then I'll pick it up and see how it feels. I know. That's not really important, right? How a book feels in your hands? But it kind of is. Some older books have a typeface that's hard to read, or the book is too narrow and has those not-quite-paperback-weird-cardboardy kind of covers. Finally, I'll read the first page. If nothing grabs me and makes me want to turn the page, then back on the shelf it goes. I know a book's going to be good when I can read the first 5 or 6 pages in one breath.

So today I was pleased to find 5 books at the library that piqued my interest. Each had something on the first page that drew me in.

~ "I'm thinking about starting an all-girl band," Meg says to me as she flips through an old People magazine, stopping at a large photo spread of a popular boy band. "'N Secure. What do you think?" from Still Life With Husband

~ "When the Hiroshima Project was long over and all the dust had settled, Daisy discovered that she could close her eyes anywhere, in a crowded room or doing the dishes, and see the girl getting off the plane...The press seized upon the name Hiroshima Maiden - such an odd way to describe an A-bomb survivor: as though Keiko might have stepped out of an Arthurian legend, wearing a cone-shaped princess hat; as though being ravaged by the bomb might have transformed the girl, giving her, along with a history of suffering, some fairy-tale virtues." from Radiance.

~ "He was known primarily for his marrows. This made him a figure of considerable suspicion to the ladies of the Horticultural Society, who, until his arrival on the scene, had vied quite happily amongst themselves for the most coveted award in the vegetable class at their annual show." from The Savage Garden

~ "Long before his chance encounter with its owner in the 600 section of the university library, Gray knew the Queen Anne at 25 University Avenue as the house that changes colors. The siding is a peculiar shade of yellow that turns a dusty sap-green under the light of the streetlamp. The house is yellow in the morning on his way to campus and green on his walk home." from Mary Modern

~ "Who shall I be today? Guy smiled at the landlady as she proffered a ballpoint pen with a bitten top. Her hands were chapped, her pink nail varnish flaking. He reached inside his suede jacket. 'Thanks, but I always write with my own fountain pen." from The Arsenic Labyrinth

Of course, there's no way I'll finish all these books in 3 weeks, so the secondary sort will come when I have to decide which ones to return. I'll keep you posted.

The Cherry on Top

Today was a pretty good day. Work was busy but not crazy. I learned a few new things, which is always nice. I got some more Christmas shopping done, and enjoyed a vigorous if slightly chilly walk at noon.
However, the icing on the cake was checking the mail. Those of you who know me well know that I love to get things in the mail. I've been a part of many book clubs, because how fun is it to get books (especially) in the mail!
Today I was expecting an order from amazon, but as a bonus I also got my book from ABE Books! It turned out to be the wrong book, but my excitement was hardly diminished. Off and on I've looked for a textbook that we used in high school entitled "A Book of Good Poems." Because it seems to have only been used as a textbook, it is hard to find. Then I discovered ABE Books (online used bookseller for rare and hard-to-find books) and ordered what I hoped was the right book. I still feel that it might be the right book but with a different name, as I got a copy from the original printing in 1957. It is called Magic Casements: A Book of Good Poems. I believe there may be a copy of the right book here in the city, but until I find it, I think I shall just enjoy the magic of the poems I already possess.

Superiority Complex

My many feelings about Winter do not tip the scales in favor of the positive. I am quick to feel frustration when my car doors freeze shut. (I am oh so thankful that this has yet to happen this year.) I don't enjoy driving on roads slick with ice. The bundling and sweeping and scraping try my patience. I pray daily for the safety of my family and friends as we navigate these sometimes treacherous roadways.

However, in the midst of the swirling snow and unsure footing, one rather positive emotion rises to the surface. When I've just come back from a walk in -35 degree weather, I must admit to feeling a sense of superiority. It's easy to live in Saskatchewan the other 3 months of the year, but I feel that it takes a special person to tough out the bitter cold and come out smiling on the other side. As I peel off layer after layer...after layer...after layer, cheeks rosy, glasses fogged and nose runny, a great sense of accomplishment descends on me.

That being said, most of my Winter issues are with driving. If I could commute everywhere by snowmobile, I think that would solve most of my problems. In lieu of that, I have purchased some bus tickets and will soon join the masses riding in warmth, if not luxury, and letting someone else worry about the icy roads.

[As an aside, I have yet to try out our public transportation system due to a case of nerves. Trying to figure out the bus schedule was enough to make me cross-eyed, and I think my first ride will literally be on the edge of my seat as I try not to miss my stop.]