Our Only Task

Drawing a blank on a screen 

with no texture, 

only the tactile nature 

of the keys feeding 

the black letters,

square and rigid,

on a screen with no texture.

But these black letters, 

square and rigid, 

write enchanting stories of 

prairies, mountains, lakes 

and oceans; trees and grasses,

peoples, animals, fish and fowl

asking us to imagine colour and texture.

“Books may well be the only true magic.”

~ Alice Hoffman,  Magic Lessons

Book Review: Swamplandia! by Karen Russell

What a read! Karen Russell takes us to the Florida swamp to Swamplandia! A theme park featuring Hilola Bigtree, a champion alligator wrestler from the Bigtree tribe. That was definitely odd, but even moreso, they were not even indiginous. Maybe to the swamp but not to any tribe. Sam Bigtree, Hilola’s husband ran the park with his father, Sawtooth - who established the park - and their three children: Ava, Osceola, and their older brother Kiwi. Ava, the youngest Bigtree, is the narrator of their story from her memories of that time. For a period of time, they were just surviving. Sam Bigtree had big ideas for the park, for expanding it, for his kids becoming alligator wrestlers. Kiwi, more erudite than just about anyone, wasn’t really enthused about that. Osceola, a teenage dreamer, was also not into it and was more that a little mixed up. She believed she was possessed by ghosts and as the story progresses, ‘falls in love with a ghost and runs off to marry him’. Ava, the youngest, watches it all as everything falls apart. 

When her mother dies after a relatively short illness, the family is devastated. This becomes a theme running through the rest of the story. No one talks about their feelings, but memories surface from time to time. Then a rival theme park opened on the mainland -The first person to leave Swamplandia! is their father. Bills have piled up and he takes ‘one of his trips’ to talk with investors. The children are left on their own. Because he has made such ‘trips’ before, they expected him back soon. Then Kiwi, recognizing how deeply in debt they were, left for the mainland and a job at the World of Darkness, the rival theme park. His plan? To make enough money to save Swamplandia! He was sadly mistaken. It was after this, that Osceola left to follow her ‘ghost’, leaving Ava alone.

The second part of the story is very different. Ava introduces us to The Birdman, a man who travels the swamps moving unwanted flocks of birds. He was apparently known throughout the swamps for this service. Ava is desperate to find her sister, who she believes has gone to the Underworld. The Birdman is kind to her and he travels the swamp. Wearing a cloak of black feathers, he takes her far from her home. For a long time she feels safe with him, helping to paddle and to portage. The farther away they get, with no sign of this Underworld, she begins to feel afraid. 

I’ll leave my review there. Can’t give away the tragedies that follow and the rescues that follow! My second read of this book was as difficult as the first! It’s not a happy, feel good read but did I put it down? No, I continued reading each day.

“But if you kept thinking about a fight you’d lost, Mom said, 

you’re programming yourself to lose again.”

~ Karen Russell, Swamplandia!

Title: Swamplandia!

Author: Karen Russell

Copyright: 2011

Publisher: Vintage Books 

Type: Fiction

Format: Soft cover

ISBN - 978-0307-27668-1

A Coffee Shop Read

between paragraphs and sentences, 

laughter and stories bounced and flew

~ I had come to a true story space.

“Listen, and you will realize that we are made not from 

cells or from atoms. We are made from stories.”

~ Mia Couto, journalist and biologist

Coffee Break

A view from my table inside 
13th Ave. Food and Coffee House

Which is more important? The coffee or the break? The coffee must be dark and milky rich, to ease me into my next book. Of course a salad and a cookie rounds it out just right. The music familiar and toe tapping. I was fortunate to share the space with only one or two others. After a day of heavy lifting of words and ideas, I came to this favourite spot for respite and to read.

At the front door of 13th Ave
Food and Coffee House

“When you rest, you catch your breath and it holds you up, like water wings…”

~ Anne Lamott

13th Ave Food and Coffee House

3136 13th Ave.

Regina, Sk.   S4T 1P3

Can be found on Facebook

Travel Bug

Only a few!

Which book to read? 

So many and so little time ~

Ticketless travel from bookshelf to

‘round the world with ideas and nuances 

made up stories or how to, 

politics or family dynamics, 

non-fiction, biography or autobiography 

no airport lineups and delays, merely 

‘stop reading and join the real world’

 ~ my book will wait for me.

So many choices so little time

to read them all or even a few 

when minutes in my travel seat lapse

and I turn my light out to sleep.

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. 

The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

~ Dr. Seuss, I Can Read with My Eyes Shut!

Bookish

When  Christmas comes so do new books to read. It’s barely a month away and already I have three new books to read:

           

The Taste of Hunger by Alberta author, Barbara Joan Scott. The story of three generations of Ukrainian women on the Canadian prairies. Olena is the first of these women, beginning their journey in 1929. 

Just Right for Christmas by Birdie Black and Rosalind Beardshaw

A children’s tale of one roll of red cloth and how it made gifts just right for a princess, a kitchen maid’s ma and more than one little animal.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Her autobiography, a classic originally published in 1969, opens the door to her troubles beginning at age nine and how she found joy in her life. Many will know this book. 

Over this next month, I will be reading them all and writing a book review on each. I've already read Just Right for Christmas about ten minutes ago, so that many be the first that I review. Think I'll leave that for tomorrow night.

"Books may well be the only true magic."

~ Alice Hoffman

A Forty Pound Oops!

I was shocked!

They just sat, stolidly leaning up against the porch railings. Two twenty pound bags of potatoes ~ that I hadn’t ordered. I had only wanted two single potatoes.

Where were the rest of my groceries!? There was no obvious delivery person in sight. I didn’t know what to do. I had seen him come up to my front door, but by the time I got my mask on and opened the door, he was nowhere to be seen.

Trying to decide what to do, I breathed easier when he suddenly appeared carrying two more bags of groceries. Fortunately, he was a very nice young man. He did explain what was obviously my error. So rather than eating all things potatoes for the next month ~ breakfast, lunch and supper ~ I sent them back to the store for return or donation.

My error? I didn’t read the website closely enough!

“Mistakes aren’t mistakes; they are lessons!”

~ Israelmore Ayivor, Six Words Inspiration

Strawberries, Blackberries and Cheese

Bits and pieces

Here and there

Putter a bit and

Read a bit more.

Set a direction

Map out a course

A mile just a piece 

of the journey we’re on

So stop to eat

or revel in sights  ~

bits and pieces of value

for any old trip!

“Writing is like sewing together what I call 

these ‘buttons, these bits and pieces.”

~ Sandra Cisneros

The Library - A Story imagined from a book title

This is also from our Writing Group on Friday, February 01, 2019. Writing exercises in our writing group are always entertaining. This month we had choices for our ten minute exercise. The first was to write from the title of a book we are reading - but it couldn’t be about the same premise. The second choice was to write from a picture ~ in this case a framed book cover of five brawny, feline looking aliens in front of a young blond gentleman, apparently the author of the sci-fi book. The stories of the aliens were great. Had the six of us laughing and laughing. I was the only one to choose a book title. The book I chose is The Library by Susan Orlean about the 1986 Los Angeles Public Library fire that destroyed many books and part of the library. A fascinating read and I definitely wrote something completely different. Libraries over history have performed a great service to citizens of all countries. It intrigued me to write about it. I’ve formatted it and fixed a typo here and there, but otherwise it is unchanged. Here is The Library

The Library - long hand in 10 minutes

The library creaked and groaned to a stop beneath an ancient old oak tree. The team of dark grey workhorses snuffled and stomped with much gratitude at the their reprieve. They could smell fresh water and hear a gently flowing river. Manes unfurled as their massive heads tossed in expectation. 

‘Now you boys be patient’ Anabel came down from the drivers seat on the old moving library. Dressed in long gray women skirt and an dusty orange buckskin too big for her, she seemed as old as the library. Getting two buckets from under the library she brought Ben and George their water and fed them the last of the oats. 

‘I’ll get you more when we get to town once the children have had time to get their books. They get almost as impatient as you do but they’re always respectful.’ 

Anabel had been driving her library across the dry plains and through small valleys for fifteen years. She never felt alone as long as she had her faithful grays pulling her wagon and the joyful faces of children. Some of the children had grown and were taking high school classes so she didn’t see them as often. But always one of them would come to her and ask for a book for some project they worked on. Sometimes she was given books in some of the larger towns she went through always keeping her library stocked. It was a journey that Anabel loved.

“The only thing that you absolutely have to know, 

is the location of the library.”

Attributed to Albert Einstein

On the Inside

Reading between the lines…….

Eating our daily bread……

Slipping out of our comfort zones…….

Ideas that are given…….

Lasting friendships that build…….

Items that are only crumbs

Easing into our own……….

Never forgetting who…….

Creating zones of………

Yesteryear’s experiences expand into…………..

“Resilience has a normal rhythm. You may not feel indestructible 

this morning but tomorrow you will be strong.”

~ Neil Mach, The Bedevilment of Bertie Lunn

When I Was a Child - 4th in Series

The following is from a writing exercise borrowed from the book Walking in The World by Julia Cameron. The words in italics are direct quotations from that book. I have already completed this exercise in my personal journal with answers a bit different. There are a total of 10 questions. The first six were completed and posted November 7th, followed by the next two on November 8th and 9th. Today's post is the ninth of the ten. For this work day, direction is the next focus of Identify Your Identity in Chapter Two of Walking in The World.

When I was a Child - Continued

One action I can take in the direction of my childhood love is….

read, read, read and keep writing on a daily basis 

(that’s actually two but I think they are of equal importance).

“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have 

the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”

~ Stephen King

Every Day Matters

Every day matters that we dream 

and see reality until patterns emerge 

with gaps, shapes and focus ~ brush strokes hidden in the colours, corners and swirls until we look closely 

to see where the artist has been.

Every day matters are as simple as washing sheets worn and worried with busy, unsettled sleep tossing and turning in awakening lives, tripping through daisies on our way to reality.

Every day matters become real and important

when it is the novels and mysteries that we read, 

the gaudy or dowdy clothes that we wear 

or food that we eat with gusto or just because. 

Every day matters are at least as important 

as grand schemes at the top of the heap of humanity 

that ebbs and flows around us seeking progress

that seems unreachable because of the crowd.

Every day matters are the cogs on our own wheels, 

the gears that we shift to find the right speed 

to take us over rocky or flat terrain, rivers or streams

with or without sustenance, peace and joy.

Every day matters not what we think 

but what we do while our thoughts tell us 

what screw to turn, what ladder to climb, what speed to go

never a thought to what does come first ~ thought or action. 

Every day matters to each of us 

but we may not know what has mattered or 

we may know what matters for us but 

not what matters to the next guy.

“It’s not the extremes and the treats that are the problem. It’s the everyday.”

~ Jamie Oliver

Ideal

A drowsy day

not much to say

except I hope your day’s been fine

not seeking depth

nor wanting more

except to read and read

a sleepy day

not much to say

except good night to all.

“Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”

~ Mark Twain