I know you are waiting breathlessly each morning for my blog but I've just been too darn busy DOING THINGS to write. Spent ten days in England, some of it on the magical coast of Cornwall, and came home obsessed with gardening. So that's where you'll find me, most days, getting down and dirty.
Which reminds me of a conversation I had recently with Stephen Heighton. When I told him how much I loved the poem he published in The Walrus, "Some Other Just Ones," he replied, with some bemusement, that he'd had exceptional feedback from that poem and wondered why he didn't write more happy stuff. I said that happiness is not conducive to sitting alone in a room, scribbling; it wants to get outside and dance.
So bye, y'all.