"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."
- Dr. Seuss

Monday, November 21, 2011

Un-named acres and Vibrant fears

Starting anew with an old life is something spiritually different, trying and exciting all at once.  I have dreamed of a farm my whole life and now I have the opportunity to not only live it, but to share it with the man I love.

With the travesty of what will now be referred to as "The other house" in full, raging colour, a chance of a lifetime has knocked at the door, and opportunity is standing patiently, waiting to cross the threshold.  The other house is beyond repair and maintenance and will be nothing but a lingering nightmare until we are rid of it.  It is nigh unlivable and all but collapsed into the earth it forces out beneath it.

Not long ago we were offered the prospect of a 1950s 800sqft home perched quietly back from the road with 15 acres of land attached to it.  The views of the sunset, the rolling hills, the stands of baled hay, the deer loping and the moose sparring are things I've already fallen madly in love with.  All of this happiness is hinged on what-ifs and a government program that has been less than comforting to deal with.  We can hope and pray, but all the magic I can do will not help me be optimistic at this critical junction in my life.  Beg, borrow or steal, we must get this home by next year, and I am not above any of those at this point.

I read today that a key to becoming a successful person is to write down your dreams, write them all down and don't scratch them off the list until you have reached them, not even if you feel they are unattainable.  My list of dreams is large and lacks the nobility of a Nobel prize winner, the undaunted honesty of a child and the impenetrable will of a warlord, but it is full of the steps towards a genuine life, and filled with a careful, hesitant willingness to go beyond the pale horizon and dive in.  It is filled with everything I have ever hoped to achieve, and I fear failure.

Things are trying as always as I try to poke the evil eye and keep it at bay.  I wonder what hoodoo was put on my soul in lives past that I have yet to rid myself of.  Today it is the hot water heater and flared tempers; tomorrow I hope it's nothing but the weather, and pray I can keep persevering and seeing the good we have.

I have never been very good at that.


Saturday, July 2, 2011

A Breath Lost To Man

I'm not really an activist. I very much believe, however, there should be a standard conciousness among the human race.

Before I continue with this, I will say I do not approve of the organization that calls itself PETA. Most of the people who support the group do so on the guise that they are simply pro-animal rights, however they have not done their research as to the purpose and history of the organization. The founders of the organization believe it is cruel to even keep pets, so much so they purchased a meat freezer for their facility, adopted over 100 dogs from shelters and froze them to death feeling it was a better fate than the potential to find a good, loving home. The organization did not deny the event, however simply would not comment.

That said, I came across a video they put out which shocked and appauled me -- it shamed me in fact to call myself human after watching it. At the bottom of this tangent you will find a link to the video. It is extremely graphic and not for the faint of heart. I suppose I'm proposing the opportunity to share it with people because of a few reasons, mostly I think people need to realize the intensity behind the abuse some animals in the fur and meat trade go through.

Please don't be mistaken. I'm all for eating meat, but I have a preference for home grown hand reared meat that died via a .22 to the brain, without suffering, as I would like to go if someone were to farm me. I suppose I find it no less cruel the way mass-production crops are harvested and the vegetarian principle of 'live food' being more 'humane' just doesn't jive with me. If you ask me, having my limbs ripped from the earth wouldn't feel that good either.

Anyway, if you choose to view it, you do so having been warned. I hope it tears you apart inside and causes you to shed tears. If you're okay with the video or unphased by the the vulgarity of it all, please do humanity a favor and take a long walk of a short pier while wearing cement shoes.

The Video

Sunday, April 17, 2011


Everyone has specific events in their lives that change their direction or manipulate thought.  For some people it's sports, some it's a life or death situation, others it's the loss or gain of something.  Two events have recently adjusted my life, changed my view on things, altered my perception of reality. 

The first (obviously, to me anyway) was the suffering of the deer who got hit by a car.  Watching that suffering, praying, for one of the few times in my life, that the deer knew I was there so they wouldn't be alone, really hit me; I could almost say it damaged me.  It shifted my perception of the world and the general perception of the people in it.  I think about it almost every day when I pass by where the deer laid, its bones relaxed into the earth like some monument to its life.

The other was a book.  This book:
The Lost Language of Plants: The Ecological Importance of Plant Medicines for Life on Earth 
Surprisingly (to most anyway, as I'm a writer), I hate reading.  It takes very specific subjects written in certain styles before I can appreciate a book enough to make my way through it.  In consideration of the time it has taken me to read books in the past, I plowed through this book at an unusually fast pace.  Stephen writes very poetically, but remains frank and just in his theories, backing them up with science (which I looked into myself after reading).  Originally, I bought this book for the research in it, but it quickly turned into a spiritual journey that I am endlessly thankful to have taken.  I look at plants so much differently now.
This is true to the point that thinning my tomato plants left me with quite the experience.  Typically I would just pull the smaller, 'weaker' one out and discard it into the compost or trash.  When I did so this year, I was stunted by an incredible sense of guilt; not so much because I had pulled it, but because I had the intention to not give it a chance.  Any plant I've ever uprooted in the past to try and plant somewhere else has died within a day or two; well, not these two tomato plants.  Both of them are thriving and growing quickly to catch up with the other plants and, as I haven't failed them, they haven't failed me.  Maybe I'm just crazy.

I watch all my sprouting plants now, I watch their movements and their health, I listen just because I hope to hear something one day.  I have 5 tomato plants potted individually from the other 15 (who reside together on the windowsill going down to my basement) and they act differently.  My individual 5 are planted with basil beneath them (companions I've read).  Their leaves stay spread out and limber at night, as if trying to reach to shelter the basil.  The others who are mingling together raise their leaves up as if to close the petals of a flower at night; they expose their entire underside.  I've come to wonder why this is.  My man says they're reaching for light, but were that true, why wouldn't my other plants do it, considering they're in less light?  Makes me think; but maybe I'm just crazy.

My desire to off-grid is almost overwhelming me.  Knowing if the power went out for days on end, I'd have no way to cook or stay warm bothers me; I wish I had a wood stove.  Hell I wish I had a quarter of land with a farm house outside of town so I could own a jersey cow and drink fresh raw milk, sheer sheep, keep ducks and chickens, and just -make it- because I wouldn't need anyone.  A cold storage would most definitely be in order.  I, like everyone else, just keep hoping for the lottery to fall in my favour before I'm 90 and have lived a life I feel is unfinished (or have died because the 2012 apocalypse turns out to be true).

Check out some other great books on my carousel.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Vertigo Reading

A study of 1000 people in 2003 by an American research company inquired as to what people were more afraid of; over 85% of them responded 'Public Speaking' when given the options of Public Speaking and death.  This means at least 950 people out of 1000 would rather die than speak in front of an audience of strangers.

I, perhaps, am one of those people.  But I did it, I actually did it.

I attended and 'performed' at the Vertigo Reading series in Regina, SK, and did so without entirely tripping over my feet.  It's hard though, you never really know what people think of your work and whether or not they enjoyed it.  I'm not a kosher writer either, I like words ending in '-ly' as they get my point across without beind so specific the reader can't make it their own.  In addition, I'm an abstract poet and ultimately a bulky one as well.  I oppose the school of thought that less is more in poetry and do not accept the beliefe poetry should be editted over and over.

I sold one book (two because Joan bought one when I first finished making them), and people have kind of heard of me now (so what).

It was a worth-while experience.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

For those of you who follow me for my stones

For my few followers, a few follow me for my 'small stone' submissions.  These have been moved.  You can find them atmy tumblr and my other blogger site called A Poet Gardener's Stones.  They are on the right hand side on the top.  Feel free to follow there and leave your input.

This blog will be for other things, other poems, and other books.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

26 things to do before I'm 26

My birthday is coming up, so my list of 25 things to do before I'm 25 will be coming down.  My new list is more realistic and practical!  Lets see what I can do!

  1. Finish and publish 'Oh, Canada'
  2. Go horseback riding
  3. Contribute to Moose Jaw Humane Society
  4. Adopt a dog
  5. Get down to 180lbs.
  6. Start a run/walk regimine
  7. Go shed hunting
  8. Build an A-Frame trellis for the garden
  9. Aquire a bow and arrow; learn archery
  10. Graduate level 1 pole dancing class
  11. Write 300 or more 'small stones'
  13. Create a bucket list of 1000+ things
  14. Go Camping
  15. Start training dogs
  16. Celebrate 2 year anniversary with Ryan
  17. Obtain an acreage or, at least, move out of Cupar
  18. Participate in Cupar's Farmer's market with my crafts.
  19. Sew an outfit or dress
  20. Save up $500
  21. Pay down one credit card by half
  22. Take up Yoga or join a Yoga class
  23. Get my driver's license
  24. Expand my forum to make it more active
  25. Participate in the Vertigo Reading
  26. Get a career

Monday, February 14, 2011

Dear Deer

I left the house around 8:45 Friday morning to go have my last two wisdom teeth pulled (success, some paralysis, maybe it'll be temporary maybe not, moving on). I hit the valley at about 9:00, and my spouse and I noticed a car, totaled, getting pulled onto a flatbed; we also noticed a deer (in very deep snow?) climbing up the hill, not far from the wreck. There was a ton of dear out that morning, and we both said there was no way that was the deer. Four hours later


we're coming home. There's that deer. The snow was not deep. It had dragged itself about 30 yards up a steep embankment before finally giving up. It was alive, suffering, and nobody had cared. For four hours, no one cared. I called the nearest police, who said they had known about a deer there for a while. Excuse me? I'm sorry, perhaps you were unaware IT HAD BEEN RUN OVER. So, not liking their answer, I called the 1-800-POACHER line and reported it. I made it extremely clear to the woman that I was going nowhere until someone was there to put the deer out of its misery.

So there I sat for about 25min, Looking the deer in the eye from the car because I was afraid if I approached, it would struggle to get up and be in more pain. It looked back at me, lord knows probably wondering why I was there, why I wasn't helping, why I was letting it suffer, why why why. I watched him breathe, struggle to breathe, hyperventilate before calming down, before suffering even more.

25 minutes I stared helplessly at a creature of this Earth, struggling with my spiritualism, praying (if you could call it that) that he would lay his head down to die so I could go up and hold him, praying that he knew I was there so he wouldn't be alone, not to watch him suffer. 25 minutes and a cop showed up. He loaded his shotgun, my spouse talked to him, and he said he was going to put him down and to take me away because he "wouldn't want his wife to see that." No more suffering. No more wondering why people were there, and what that big blue beast was that hit him and couldn't be bothered to care.

That person probably couldn't be bothered to care because the deer inconvenienced them, by bounding through its environment, into the lane to be hit. If that ever happens to me, and that deer or moose or other animal lives, if I am coherent enough to say words, I will string them together to say "Help that animal." Because you know what inconveniences me? The fact that people are so busy with their lives, they can't be bothered with another life. I hope, if there is a hell, that person rots in it. Based on the condition of the vehicle and the area where it happened, I would go so far as to stereotype and say the person should have had spiritual obligations to stop, to care about all things because they (more-so than the 'white man') understand the world and how she works, they can hear the beat of her heart. But I guess the 'white man' took that from them too. I hope that person is buried face down, their soul trapped for all eternity, to wander where it left Earth's creature to die, to have to feel that suffering.

I came home and lit a candle for the deer after much thought. I haven't stopped to think about the pain in my mouth, haven't taken the pills like I should so I feel pain, in honour of that suffering deer. I hope he knows, God I hope that deer knows I was there so he wasn't alone, so he wouldn't suffer alone, so someone could prove to him that there is still good on this Earth; not much, but there is. I hope the candle is enough to honour him, I don't know how else. I'll let the flame die by itself, no matter how long it takes.

Maybe I can write something to do the deer justice, to give its soul rest.

I know it's 'just a deer', but to me it was 'just a life,' and its life was worth it; he deserved so much more.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


The sun
makes me blissfully blind
to my computer screen.

Monday, January 24, 2011


I justify not having
moments of paying close attention
with "I'm too busy,"
and realize life is also
too busy to pay attention
to me.

Saturday, January 22, 2011


Face down in the middle of the road
pleading to be covered by the snow
a cat, once suffering,
lay broken backed, unloved, forgotten,
and lifeless, bringing me to tears.

Not all small stones are happy.