Friday, April 8, 2022

puppy love

OOF - under the weather today. Yesterday I got the first of two shingles vaccines, and boy, did it pack a punch; I'm achey all over, very sore arm. The second dose I get in the summer will be much worse; the druggist said the side-effects could last a week. Better than shingles. 

Spring is unfurling slowly; there are purple croci in the garden. I came down the other day to find Monsieur Cardinal having his morning bath in the saucepan on the deck. What a fuss - he splashes and ruffles. I wonder - does he sense how magnificent he is? Can he tell that the sparrows he's surrounded with are so ordinary in comparison?

We're going as a family in two weeks to pick up Sam's pup in Oshawa. He bought Bandit from a group that rescues dogs from northern reservations and keeps them safe until adoption; he had to go through a rigorous vetting process. We're especially eager to welcome this pup because Anna's beloved cat Naan is definitely on her way out, and Eli is heartbroken. He told his mother he'd never love another pet because it hurt too much when they go. He's nine! Perhaps he'll change his mind.  
I apologize in advance for the upcoming avalanche of puppy photos. Can you blame me?

My writer friend Antanas kindly wrote that he'd enjoyed "Correspondence" in Queen's Quarterly. Writers so appreciate readers who take the time to write. Your piece was lovely in itself and in particular the way it all seems so unlikely and yet the elements fit together so well - touchingly!

Curtis who's reading the essay book wrote more nice words: "I was struck by the incredible diversity of subject matter — to experience through your eyes and sensibilities the range of experiences you chronicle, through your compassionate, sometimes humorous or self-deprecating but always wise, enlightened and intensely human voice. Your humanity shines through. And that's what makes all these stories interesting and relevant to a wide audience of readers, both men and women.
Let's hope! Thank you very much, Curtis. 

On my way to the library; I'm devouring essay collections these days. Taking back Ross Gay's The Book of Delights - fun, a bit too quirky for me - and picking up Terry Tempest Williams and Margaret Atwood's new book. Grateful to have a library two blocks away. Not to mention a No Frills, two deli's, and a Shopper's a block away, the LCBO and butcher two. Who needs a car? Quick, the sun is shining before the rain comes back. I'll walk slowly. Just don't touch my arm. 

PS Just went for a walk with Ruth. Waved to the mailman, Nick; chatted with my piano teacher, Peter, and with Mrs. Kim, who has just re-opened her family's garden store after their winter break. I used the Merlin app to identify birdsong pouring out: dark-eyed junco, Northern cardinal, robin. Ruth was depressed because of the state of the world - last night's Agenda on kleptocracy and the coming food crisis. But spring is also coming. Let's hang onto hope.


  1. The garden centre looks like a place to spend a lot of time. There's something about walking among the seedlings, bees hovering, the scent of green, damp soil...

    1. Oh believe me, I've spent a lot of time there! It's half a block from my house. Without a car, I have to buy everything there. Their kids grew up with mine; we're old friends. My garden is full thanks to them. On the other hand, I think my garden put their kids through college...