i've just spent two nights in a cabin on the shores of the bay of fundy with several incredible people, one stray cat, one old cat dealing with a coyote responsible eye infection, two huskie puppies and one sweet dog that was rescued from a wrongful drug bust. everything i've seen and done feels like a story i'm about to write, but i wanted to wait to make something of anything.
neither my sweet friend kuey-bird (as her maritiming relatives fondly refer to her) nor myself own one of those fancy digital cameras, so we've come equipped with two disposables we picked up for $2.99 at the hardware store by our place in montreal and one role of film in my old nikon fg. disposables require the perfect combo of care less/full ness, so i sort of think that each photo will really be full of words, and i want to have at least those developed before i try to do much writing.
here's a list to aid my memory with any later expansion and development
- caleb's beat up trumpet and all blues mash-up that i listened to in an empty balcony, staring down at all the balding heads in paddy's pub
- and with that, aaron's approach to compliments/friend making, as well as the crochet hat resting on his ears to cover the head he shaved because of the lice his kids got hold of
- the speed with which the rumors flew that we were being invited to sing at the deep roots festival in september
- deb and fred's incredible spirit and stamina and sensibility and smiles and style and smoking and simple lives
- rohen's three year old vocabulary
- melted rocks in the bay
- wet air
- east coast idioms
- the times these idioms work better than the bumbling words we try to fill with relevant content
can i live in one of these cabins by the sea? warmed by a wood stove, with no locks on the doors?
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