storm the beach. sept still.

radar, twisting roots and dams of mud, fresh water flows over smooth and jagged rocks, life dripping life around us as we slosh down the soupy path toward the beach. this, the place which may have first sparked a coveted return. where in april we sat in the sun and sand, disconnected from the busy world east of us, with more than just a thick forest and jutting hill guarding us from its existence, backs turned, facing west, south west. watching oystercatchers glide across the bay, this the only place I have ever seen one.

and again, today, we watched them cautiously fly from one sheltered point to another, avoiding the crashing surf and short spats of rain.  yes, there was a storm, raging, somewhere, but we were seeing spots of blue sneaking from behind the clouds and as we ate our sandwiches on the rocks, watching a small seal flounder in the waves, the sun even attempted to shine on us.

now as I listen to the wind which has picked up the rain and begun to throw it about, now these sounds which keep us indoors, they make me smile, for they've taken the night,  but given us the day.

sept 29. jake's day.

I was fortunate enough to be raised in a home with five amazing women.

these women taught me.




as a young man I was not as aware of the greatness of these women, as I am now.

and as I grew I separated myself from them, as I have once again.

but no matter where I was, they always cared for me as they did while I as fluttering around under their protective wings,

now with age at our heels, I feel their care and love more than I ever have, my respect for them growing each day.

I am proud to stand beside them, to see them overcome and to nourish new life and strength into this world

to my mother I give thanks, for she is the power that lifts our sails, and your daughters dear mom, oh your daughters.

these women of grace. these women of awe. these women of pure heart.

these women are my heroes.

aujourd'hui.un autre jour. automne

watching waves

push back days

beach walkers

the gull's reflections disappearing into the sand

I climb along the rocks and sit facing the horizon

south west

flat lining breaks

heart beats heavily, crashing against the rocks

sea weed sifters, blissful explorers, the ocean brings salt on the cheek and calm.

calm interaction, soft smiling, tide dodgers.

we breath each other, me the sea and the sea me.

my thoughts stretch out with the tide and collect in the waves.

pushing back days.

today, fall the third... the fresh child, the young heart.



Approx. two months ago, I left that province, and I moved east. I left behind worn out boots and worn out schedules and ideas. i left behind an old man and gained a new child. i walked and i waited, i had company, and i had solitude. i felt growth but i knew i was moving in the wrong direction, literally, geographically, personally.

a young tree will sprout from the ground and grow toward the sun, toward light, and if you build a roof over it, it may briefly lose sight of the sun,  it will not stray from its destiny, but become merely side tracked. continually searching for light it will grow sideways and push around the new obstacle and soon it will be moving straight towards the sky again. this sideways movement will be visible for the rest of the tree's life but it will not stop it from growing. and in old age that tree will have lived a long and crooked life, but it will be strong and happy. it will feed the air around it and give to new life in the ground.

i am not a tree,(not yet) but i look to the trees for inspiration.

now, sitting in the warm home of some old friends in a new town on some old rock, the far reaches of the west coast of my home land, i feel new, i feel happy, and i am thankful for the crooked times and the rays of light that have kept me pushing forward. this path is righteous.

leaves, no worry for the wind.

wind, no worry to the leaves.

sincerely, your friend, your brother, your son. dr.

(post script. has been shining like the sun!)

today, is today. the first day of the last month of summer. cold ground pt. 1

haven't quite made it out of bed yet, truth is, after promising myself to take full advantage of this luxury upon returning from my cold ground camping tour with the pigeon on the canadian shield, i really havent given myself the full pleasure of getting to sleep at some reasonable hour, sleeping the full night, and waking slowly to spending a couple hours in bed, i've tried mind you, but i'll be damned if my mind doesn't find some reason for me to frantically jump out of bed after the first three or four clear thoughts make an evident pass on my sloth tissue. so here i am, in bed, where most good writing occurs(mine anyway), apparently painting too, i read somewhere recently that picasso used to work from bed, which is a task fit for a kid, i haven't any coffee or eggs to warm me, and my window is closed so i cannot hear the birds singing the sun into the day, you see, the mind coaxes me out, and soon i'll need to use the toilet. ah, skype rings, an old friend from montreal, she is now on the island of the western coast and is telling me she is going to make coffee and food, but the truth is i wait now for another call, maybe the truest reason to stay where i am, and with this call i will have reached a pleasurable amount of time, spent productively in bed, i win hour passed, there the call which was maybe thought to be a quick hello, good morning, blessed be your day and so, but the world is a vast place and sparks much concern, therefore we discuss it. i'm going to get some coffee and eggs. more on the cold ground soon, more on birds, especially the pigeon.

dressed like a ragin bull. today is thoughts of the cardinals.

the small dog on my floor , pacing and shaking, the sky just opened, bellowed and left, she hates that. i love it. the trees out front of the house have shed their white blossoms and are green and full of birds. magpies and crows, one of which i had to pluck from its perch, sparrow eaters. but those cardinals, they have left the nest and sure enough flown west. maybe even floated that way, which is more likely, on a river of amber smoke. i kinda just keep going here, and havent stopped to think about the hole you two left in the floor and the silence that now drifts through it. i have to say my drinking has been cut at least 40% since your departure, i say this in regret i suppose, but my old age may thank me. in lifes fullness, i place our time, experience and friendship among the thickest of pleasures. to see you grow in comfort and knowledge of yourselves and your music will be something i hope to remember and share with my grandchildren or someone else's at least. the heavy notes which you had to depart on were cruel, unfortunate and undeserved, i speak of lane of course.  Al, i know the strength is there for you and he and your family to overcome and im sure  it is already happening. my heart is thankful for you both, and until we meet again, which we will soon,for anything you gotta do, you do. im going to get mildly drunk tonight. jasmine and alex, my love for you is like an old hat, it smells, its dirty, and it fits like an old hat, perfectly.

your friend in arms,



today is father's day.

to the man who was my father,
i'm not sure where you went, i just know you are gone. i still search for you,  i see you, everywhere, but i'm unsure of my ability to make a connection, because you have been away for so long. i can't feel you anymore. not like i used to, though here you are, right here, in my every movement and thought, and i'm happy for your spirit, i'm happy for my sisters and my brother, i'm happy for your kids and their kids, and for your brothers and their kids. i'm proud to be of you, to be of your parents, though they have gone too. you left me but you did not leave me unprepared, you left me weird and you made me friendly, you were human and now i am too. i just wish you would have left me with an upper lip,

today is june.

bad sickness for three days. stomach has mutinied and is trying to gain control of my legs. no work, no pay, no energy. a lot of things happening but what to write about? my all weather friend and mud brother clayton "big wing" pigeon has flew the coop in a coup d'etat of his long mooring in alberta and from what i hear he has joined the rebels just south of us for a quick torch toss across george washington's fell mast. dragging anchor in the land of ports, where he most likely shot numerous water foul, he found himself quickly ripe for flying, now he is sitting break side on some foggy beach sipping rum and eating pineapple. actually knowing the pigeon he's most likely on top of a volcano heading a tour of bohemian bride's maids. all in all i wish i were sandwiched somewhere between the maid of honor and the sympathy dress, with a good view of the bearded wizard and his talking hands. god speed fellow. you're a champion conductor in fore and hind sight.

***bad news from shore: i'm still on it. good news from shore: lots of lovely birds here, humans too. haven't had the canoe out for a fort night and it saddens me to see it belly up on my lawn, which needs cutting. no time. nope, readers must be pleased, and the many they are. thanks you three.

your friend in arms,
and at home,

next month maybe a chapter on sylvan lake graffiti.

today may 11. 2020.

count down to canoe days. i went yesterday with old pigeon paddler. earlier in the week he forced me into cleaning and painting the sled and with the starboard side finished we dipped oar paddles yesterday. the water is roughly 3 degrees c and at its clearest for the year, ice still floats on the north end of the lake. we found a beached log that clay wanted to tow home for some wood working but she didn't make the trip, we lost her about 1 km from port due to old and brittle rope. a couple beers, a few darts and some sunshine, a successful maiden voyage none the less.



surreal puppies

the world is in a state of dispair. nothing new to report. the grass is exposing itself. warning: the lake water is still cold, and mostly covered with a solid layer of thinning ice. my foot found out due to the latter earlier today. i've decided to start a half vast count down to the 2013's maiden voyage of the "portage et trois". it has been sitting keel up for roughly seven months. i estimate that i will have it in the water by june 1st, and until then there are a few things that need to be done, first off a good cleaning, then sanding and refinishing the seats, both stern and bow, (obviously, i just wanted to use some boat lingo to feel rigid) then some minor glassing and labeling and an official christening, most of which i will likely forget to do or loose steam for, aside from the christening, which happens every ride regardless. so here we go, count down, day one/day 39. first step, laying in bed and thinking about an exposed body of water.  thinking about getting life jackets for this year. or a harpoon.

today, another day of fresh snow.

depending on where you live, and depending on whether or not its alberta, and depending on how you feel about depending on the whether or nots of the weather in alberta and you happen to live here like i do , does not mean to have to stay here and there is some mercy in that. give yourself some dignity and realize that nothing is holding you down and you can do what ever you want, like buying an rv and driving anywhere else, aside from saskatchewan or manituba, and find happiness. if thats unreasonable, take your car, ride your bike,  ride your thumbs and open your heart to the opportunity that stands elsewhere. anyway, i just hate snow and winter and im sick of this shit. 7 months strong. makes me weak and my mental state is taking a serious beating, like a jack hammer to a honey dew. its not worth it. have a great day.

today april 18. my birthday.

its been roughly four days since my last post, it took me three hours to remember my password loging in, which made me realize it had been more than four days since my last post. its been a long four days, but all in all i feel good about it. the airplane ride from calgary was swift and i arrived in victoria on time. maybe early. about ten minutes early. there is nothing quite as satisfying as that. but the island was a good time, and i feel that i took it in as honestly as one could considering the circumstances. which were simple and non threatening. and it passed and it felt long and it will last for a long time too. but now i find myself home in sylvan in bed, wasting hours, lacking sleep and wanting more, time away, time above and time below. the prairies are bleak now and seem to hold to it, the trees sway with want for leaves and the snow clings to the grass like a sorry dog at his heel knowing he just shit on your favorite sweater. but i'm in my bed in my underwear that are unnatural and uncomfortable, and its warm here and i like it in my bed. its a nice big bed and i don't take advantage of its size.  there are clothes on my floor and my foot is asleep and i know now i should be too.

today, fools boxing day.

i spent an hour on this post and all i have to show for it is this shitty explanation that i'm an idiot for erasing an hours worth of probably useless information. thank god. tomorrow i'll write about my mom's purple cow.

here's a picture to make up for the lack of mind blowing imagery i was painting with words.



second post same day different date. the 28th.

im really happy to be making progress with my blog, i have figured out how to change my font colour and it only took an hour. praises be to his imperial majesty. last night a close relative of mine hit a moose while driving home from eckville, i haven't had a  true life recap of the events from cejaye, the driver,( also my brother's sweetheart) but i drove my brother out to the accident from sylvan and we caught first sight of the emergency vehicles' lights from the benalto turn off, she had hit the moose then the ditch roughly one hundred meters on the west side of the medicine river,( apprx 3 km from benalto) she was out of the vehicle and standing when i saw her but the moose was exactly the opposite, i walked down in the ditch to get a closer look and sitting in her passanger seat with half its body out the front window, was a 3 tonne* bullwinkle. im grateful for your safety cejaye as are so many others.  i suggest a land cruiser with a bush bar for your next vehicle.* weight estimated.

today, march 27th 2013.

a sunny and mindless day. this may be the slowest blog you have ever read, but it is about time to do something like this and im off to a firing start, following will be numerous spelling mistakes, grammer errors and inappropriate conjugation, along with one sided opinions and photographs. i hope you can enjoy it and with any luck and/or ambition it will be a worth while read.