Unraveled

The package came in the morning mail, but I was uncertain about opening it right away. I knew what it would contain. My aunt, a rather eccentric lady of some years, always sent me an original knitted piece to add to my wardrobe. However, the dear woman’s creations did not always turn out as planned. For example, on my sixth birthday she presented me with a pair of knitted trousers in a lovely shade of teal. Unfortunately, she had misjudged the number of legs in the design, and rather than restart an almost completed garment, she simply stopped knitting the middle leg and sewed it together. The result was a pair of trousers that made me look somewhat like a dinosaur with a large tail swinging from the back. Although it was months before I wore the trousers, I was the envy of all the six year olds that Halloween with my triceratops costume.

For Christmas one year shortly thereafter I received a stocking cap made from mixed grey wool. It was lumpy and uncomfortable and I did not enjoy wearing it. Then one day it happened to rain on my way from school and the water caused the hat to shrink considerably. It was necessary for my mother to cut the hat from my head with a pair of scissors, and my poor forehead was left with a corrugated print that lasted hours.

In my sixteenth year my dear aunt knit me a sweater. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what the article was until she explained that when she started knitting the first row of stitches she accidentally put them on upside down. As she progressed she realized that she was putting a purl stitch where she should have been knitting. But the sweater would be fine, she insisted, as long as I wore it inside out, upside down and backwards.

So you understand my trepidation upon receiving the package. After a few deep breaths, I resolved to open the parcel, for surely my aunt would call to see if I received the gift and I would have to know what it contained. Imagine my surprise when I took out a lovely sea green sweater. I inspected the garment closely. A hole for the head as well as one for the torso, two sleeves, and it was just the right size. Perhaps after all these years my dear aunt had finally mastered the art of knitting.

I was quite eager to wear my new sweater so I could truthfully tell my aunt that I enjoyed the comfort and warmth of her gift that very day on my walk in the park. As I prepared to leave the house I noticed a small thread protruding from the hem. Well, I couldn’t reject an otherwise beautiful sweater because of one small flaw. I made a mental note to trim it when I returned home.

Regrettably, as I left my house, the tiny thread caught in the door causing a small tear in the seam of the sweater. I inspected the damage. Surely such an insignificant tear could be repaired. I carried on my way, adding to my mental note to have the sweater fixed.

I arrived at the park shortly after one. It was a lovely spring day and the park was filled with children playing and laughing, couples strolling hand in hand, and people walking their dogs. On my way toward the park gates I met my friend Bridget walking her schnauzer. She smiled and we both stopped to chat.

“Hello William, lovely day for a walk.”

“Yes, it is,” I replied. “It seems Toby is enjoying the day as well.” I nodded toward the dog with his nose up, taking a survey of the spring air.

“He always enjoys a jaunt in the park, don’t you boy. And I must let you carry on with yours.” Bridget smiled again eying my sweater. “Handsome jersey. Oh dear, there seems to be a tear in the seam.” She reached for the thread and succeeded in unraveling several more stitches. “Oh my, I’m dreadfully sorry, William.”

“No trouble,” I assured her, as she looked positively horrified at her blunder. “A few more stitches won’t slow the mending much.” I gave her a friendly smile and a wave as I made my way toward the park entrance.

My bad luck held as I entered the large iron gates which led to the green. The now rather lengthy thread caught on the gate hook. I didn’t notice at first and kept walking until my middle felt a little drafty.

By now the sweater had dwindled until the steadily climbing hem rested just above my navel. There was nothing further I could do, except to ignore the stares from other park patrons who were no doubt wondering about my unique garb. I nodded and smiled sheepishly at those who caught my eye, trying to gather the liberated yarn in my arms, and all the while keeping a steady pace toward the park exit. I could see the gates now and had only a few yards left to close the gap when a rather frisky puppy, having escaped from its owner, came bounding over. Its attention was drawn by the bright green string trailing behind me, dancing in the breeze. Before I could react, the little mongrel nabbed the string and tore off in the opposite direction from which I was headed. The result was most disturbing; me standing at the park gate with a handsome sea green collar and long thin leash to match.

* * * * * * * * * * *
Two months had passed since the unfortunate sweater incident. I could finally walk through the park again and once I almost looked a dog walker in the eye. Then the package arrived. My dear aunt, having heard of my embarrassment, sent me a present to cheer me; a pair of black knitted trousers for fall and winter outings. I can take some consolation in the fact that fall is several months off, but this does not prevent the recurring dream that plagues me. I shall not bore you with the details. Suffice to say it concludes with the comment; “A lovely knitted belt you have, but shouldn’t you be wearing pants?”

Shave for the Brave Update

There's still a month and a half left to go and I've already reached 86% of my $2000 goal. Woo Hoo! Looks very much like I'll be posting some photos here after March 12th.

With shave day approaching, and the dollar amount rising, my upcoming baldness has become a big topic of conversation and the target for some good old fashioned ribbing.

A friend kindly commented that she thought I would look like Demi Moore in GI Jane:

Friend 2 disagreed. She thinks I'm more likely to look like her ex, Bruce Willis:

Later, her husband suggested I'd look like Jake Gyllenhaal in "that movie about the marines" (Jarhead). Lovely though he is, I hope not:

Other names have been thrown about: Daddy Warbucks, Telly Savalas, and Patrick Stewart (I'm trying not to take offense that these are all male).

The guessing and waiting will soon be over, but there is still time to help the cause if you haven't done so already. You can go here, or click the icon on the right of the page, to make your donation online. Every little bit helps. You can also watch the video about my decision to do the Shave.

Thank you, once again, to all those who have helped spread the word and/or donated. You have my undying gratitude. xo

EDIT: While I was writing this, my total rose to 90%. Just 10% more to go!

It's not what you think

To the neighbours who may have been looking out your front window,

I realize that the events you saw early this morning may have been cause for concern. Two people filling the back of a pickup truck with small bundles wrapped in black plastic bags would be suspicious. Who does this sort of thing on the coldest morning of the winter? That couple's hurried and thorough scrubbing of the truck bed and driveway would be rather dubious as well. It was barely light, it was windy, it was -14c. Most sensible neighbours were still warm in their beds, or sipping a civil cup of coffee at the breakfast table.

I assure you that there is no reason for alarm. The early morning preparation for a trip to the land fill is just the result of some home renovations. The meticulous cleaning of the truck and driveway was the result of a spilled can of paint. Better to clean it before it dries and sets. We don't want any unsightly stains on the asphalt.

So you see, there's no need to worry. The neighbourhood is just as safe now as it was yesterday. Put down the phone. Pour yourself another coffee. Enjoy the rest of your Monday with our apologies for starting it off the wrong way.

Sincerely,

The Millers

PS: We should also mention that the hole in the backyard is for next year's vegetable crop.

What Makes a Good Story?

I read quite a bit when I stop to consider the amount of quiet time available to me. Yet, of the eighty or ninety books I read every year, and the hundreds of short stories, only a few really stand out. If asked to recall what books I read in 2010, I could probably tell you three or four off the top of my head. The rest have disappeared into the void. That isn't to say those others weren't good. I'm sure I thoroughly enjoyed them at the time. For some reason, they just didn't have staying power.

So what is it about those few, those stories that really stand out?

Controversial stories or stories that "think outside the box" as they like to say in the conference room, often stay in the consciousness long after the last page. Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx is one. The novel Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro is another. Similarly, shocking revelations can keep a story hovering for a long time. The Lottery by Shirley Jackson is a well known example.

These stories grab hold, bring emotions to the surface. They make you think.

Good horror stories work for much the same reason. The sheer terror of being walled up in the catacombs keeps Edgar Alan Poe's The Cask of Amontillado fresh and frightening. I will never walk through the produce aisle again without thinking of Angel Zapata's Surrogate Fruit. A good horror story comes at you with a "what if" so frightening, is it impossible to put it aside when the light's been put out.

Again with the thinking.

Some stories conjure memorable images or ideas. I love it when a story paints a picture so vivid that you feel as if you are there, in that place. You experience the story. For me, Ray Bradbury's The Emissary is like that, full of rich description, atmosphere and mood. For weeks after reading Linda Simoni-Wastila's When a Bowl Hits a Tree, I could not get the poem out of my head. I was in awe of her use of language, and how those words and images made me feel. It's a beautiful thing when that happens.

Sometimes it's the idea that stays, like in the case of Michael Solender's Lost in the City. The idea of being forgotten by the city appealed to me. It was such a lonely thought. It has stayed with me, and every now and then it comes to the surface, not at all forgotten.

Finding a story, or novel, or poem that you know will stay with you is one of the great joys of reading. To be changed, even a little bit, by words on a page. I don't know if I will ever be that writer, but I'm happy to be on the receiving end. 

If you go to my Something You Should Read archive on the right, you can read some stories that made an impact on me. What do you think makes a good story?

Catching up (and check out my interview)

I haven't written a thing here in a week. I'm starting to get a bit twitchy. Not writing doesn't agree with me much. I think I'm allergic. I can't remember the last time I went this long without writing. I can't remember the last time I wrote this much in longhand. My house has been full for the past week or so - a mother-in-law on the mend and her sisters - and it has been nice. There's nothing like the craziness of family to keep you grounded. But my computer has felt my absence and I'm reacquainting myself with writer's cramp.

I started off to write a few things for upcoming contests and other literary showcases. I've never been much good for writing on demand. My imagination does what it wants. My pen is just along for the ride. The stories I've started, which were meant to be flash fiction, have turned into short stories. It's ruining my plans, but I'm rather enjoying the extra room to play.

Here's a little bit from one of the stories:

“It’s a cat. I found it outside under the hedge. Poor little thing is drenched.” She pulled the blanket apart. Sam peeked inside and quickly pulled back.
“That is not a cat.”

Here's something from another one:

The dank smell from the swamp crawled up through the truck vents as Hig drove deeper into nowhere. A small white house sat back a little ways from the road, and he supposed it was the place he needed to go. It was the only place around.  

So I'll probably eventually get them finished. Sometime. Before I do that, I've got of online catching up to do. Expect a visit from me soon.

Shave for the Brave Update
I am now at 71% in my quest to raise $2000 for Young Adult Cancer Canada. I had a little chat with them last week about why I decided to do the shave this year. I felt a little dorky, but they were awesome, and it was fun to sit and talk with them. You can check it out here. And if you are so inclined you can go here to donate.

Huge thanks to everyone who has helped so far.
xo

More Travel - New Year's Plan Part 3

So as I said before, I didn't make any resolutions. I have plans, see.  I'm shakin' off the dust of this crummy little town and I'm gonna see the world. Or at least a small piece of it.

Each year, hubby and I try to take a trip somewhere we have never been, then take off with the kids somewhere fun. We've seen some amazing sights, done some fun things and, despite our very different attitudes toward travel, we generally have a good time. In the past few years we've been to some exciting places. I'm hoping this year will bring even more memorable experiences. 

Travel is one of those great things that can be done at a moments notice, or after months of planning. It can mean saving up for a year, or taking off with five bucks in your pocket. I guess it all depends on how broadly you define travel, but some of the best adventures are just outside your front yard.

Take Fogo Island, for example. This year it was number 22 on the New York Times list of places to see in 2011. You've read, or seen, bits of Fogo Island - here, here, here, and here, plus in a few other photos I've posted around this place. With the exception of my own hometown, it is my favourite place on earth. Definitely a place you should visit in 2011. I'll give you the grand tour.

Of course, I'm always looking for new places to visit. Tell me about your favourite place to go, or your most memorable trip.

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Shave for the Brave Update

Two months from today I will be taking part in the Shave for the Brave to support YACC and I have already reached 59% of my $2000 goal! Thank you so much to everyone who has donated or spread the word about my upcoming baldness. Your generosity means so much.

Respite from the Heat

This was originally published at The Not as part of the Dog Days of Summer Flash Contest. Here is the extended version.
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After eight long years Jay had been released into the searing heat of summer. It was a punishment in itself.

He found the church with no trouble; it was exactly as Zeke described. Old and crumbling, it was lost all alone in the middle of nowhere. Just like him. It amazed him that people still visited here, still came to seek serenity. Or salvation.

Inside, the air was cool and damp, thick with the scent of incense and a thousand whispered Hail Marys. Jay wiped at his sunburned lips. He stood for a moment and let the cool air settle on his skin. There was no time to rest. He had work to do.

Jay moved to the corner of the room and removed the largest stone from the dirt floor. A faceless saint stared down as he dug into the earth with his hands. It took only minutes to find the bag.

He’d done a lot of things to get this money, and more to keep it. Twenty-five thousand dollars. The whole reason he was in this place.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

He opened the box that said For the Poor, put the bag inside. The money didn’t matter to him anymore. He only wanted respite from the heat.

Reading and Writing- New Year's Plan Part 2

I told you I had plans for the new year, right?

My second plan for 2011 is to do more reading and writing. This sounds like it should be two seperate plans, but I find the two go hand in hand. The more reading I do, the more writing I do.

The reading part is all falling into place quite nicely. Since the last few days of December, I have read two books - Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro and Stephen King's Full Dark, No Stars. Yesterday, my print copy of The Best of Friday Flash arrived, and I am very much looking forward to reading through stories by all those familiar names. I am also anxiously awaiting the arrival of Angel Zapata's book The Man of Shadows. 

I hope to squeeze in a few local books this year as well. I've started The Confessions of Nipper Mooney by Ed Kavanagh, which came highly recommended by my friend, Alan Davidson. I also have to make an effort to read Come Thou Tortoise by Jessica Grant, which has won all sorts of acclaim country wide.

So, my reading material is covered for the first few months of winter. In between the reading and the laundry, I have to make time for some writing, just to keep my hand in. I've already started going through all my notebooks. It's a little scary, the amount of notes I have scribbled in the corners and along the edges of the paper. Some are legible, some are completely off the wall. Take this passage for example:

There's a guy on the wall

holding a triangle

Dude

What happened to his arm?

A cookie for anyone who can tell me what the heck I was thinking when I wrote that. Or what it means.

I have a list of stories the length of my arm that are in various stages of completion and need some TLC. I've taken some off the roster completely because, although they looked good in some dark corner of my mind, they really don't hold up in the cold light of day. No matter, I have enough to keep me busy and out of trouble. Plus, April will soon be upon us and I need to stockpile some poems - just in case.

And that, dear friends, takes care of phase two of my plans. I will pass along any book recommendations, and rest assured that I will inform you if any of my humble writings see the outside world.

Tell me about your reading list, or your writing projects.

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If you missed it, please read about my plan to take part in this year's Shave for the Brave. Please spread the word, and any donations are much appreciated (note: there is a $1.50 transaction fee for donations from outside the country). I want to thank everyone who has helped out so far. You are all wonderful. xo

More Giving, Less Hair - New Year's Plan Part 1

I didn't make any New Year's resolutions. Instead, I've got plans.

Over at The NOT's end of year bash, I mentioned my ideas for 2011: More travel, more reading, more writing, more giving. Part one of my plan falls into the latter category - More Giving. Even better, it's an opportunity for you to help out too. You can thank me later.

Shave for the Brave is an annual fundraiser for Young Adult Cancer Canada. The idea is simple; Pay the fee or collect sponsors, then show up on the assigned day and have your head shaved.

This year, on March 12th, I'm taking part in the community shave at the local mall. My fundraising goal is $2000.

I know. $2000 sounds like a lot of money. But I've got nice hair, people! It isn't particularly long, just only shoulder length, but it's so healthy and thick and soft. You should feel it. And because it isn't that long, I don't have the option of cutting it and donating. My participation means shaved, completely off. Who knows what kind of bumps and dents are under there.

I have many reasons for wanting to do this. Most of them are because of the amazing people in my life who have had to face their own battles with cancer. They range in age from the very young, to teens, young adults, parents and grandparents. Helping groups to better support young people facing this disease and all its challenges appealed to me. When you consider the big picture, what's a little hair?

So I've made my donation and now I'm asking for help in reaching my fundraising goal. You can donate online here, or if you happen to see me walking down the street, I'll take cash too, and add you to my list. I've had several generous donations already. You can see them on my fundraising page. Every little bit helps, and you can donate anonymously if you wish. If I reach my goal of $2000, I will post about the whole event here, complete with photos and maybe even video.


I would like to thank Cathy, Alan, and Jodi for the mentions and links on their blogs. I'd also like to thank in advance everyone who takes the time to visit my links, read about the cause, spread the word, and donate a little bit to help reach that goal. You're the best.
 
Oh, and if anyone knows of a good place to buy hats, let me know.

Happy New Year



From the end of the world, the first in North America to celebrate, I wish you a very happy, healthy, prosperous New Year.