Monday, June 21, 2010

Everthing Starts With M.

Meadow Lake Provincial Park.
Middle Lake.
Especially excited about returning to Mexico, July 27-August 24th. It's been a long time. Since 2002, actually. And yippy, I'll get to see my good hermano-friend, writer Juan Jose Rodriguez, whom I've not raised a glass nor danced with since our six-week intercambio at the Banff Centre in 2003.
Reconnections are wonderful things, like mine with Toronto playwright and book reviewer Jose Teodoro, who is currently holding fort(h)
at my house in Middle Lake.
And time spent with Regina poet Gerry Hill, who's been in Edmonton for the last week attending his improv actor son's shows at Improvaganza.

I've pulled some photos from the archives ...

Juan Jose Rodriguez, me, Gerardo Montiel Klint, Andres Acosta, and Maleea Acker, in Celestun, Mexico, 2002.

With Juan Jose near Banff, 2003.

La Familia, at our final party at the Banff Centre.
Salsa, salsa, salsa.

There's much to do. Leaving Edmonton June 30th. I've been up since 3:30 a.m. with items on my never-ending To Do list running through my head like ticker-tape.
Other news: I have a piano in the house now, thanks to the generosity of Edmonton writer Mary Woodbury, and via new friend Rita Espechit.
I like my new friends. Super time playing guitar and singing with writer and neighbour Anna Sewell.
I do not have Hep A, Hep B, or HIV. This was discovered after a gardening incident. Long story.
Tree inventory: combination apple: thriving plum 1: surviving plum 2: terminal
(3:30 a.m. -- Jaysus, why am I not tired?)
Running report: definitely prefer the slow, 20k runs to the fast 10s. Unfortunately Greg's suffering with an injury at the moment, but I'm sure he'll be back on the trails again soon.
Most fun of late: Thoroughbred races. I lost $30, but have rarely had as swell a time losing money. Oh, the names of race horses... "Would I Would" ... "Lake House"... "Freud's Cure" .... "Streakin' Mohican" ... "Nomanisanisland" ... "Pier Twentyone". Hilarious to hear Greg down at the fence beside the track, yelling: "Come on, Snazzyboy!"
Okay, more when I'm able.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Monday's poem