Month: December 2009
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Happy New Year!
Last New Years I spent in the hospital with newborn Aidan watching a “Project Runway” marathon. In other words, an awesome start. (I haven’t seen any real programs to speak of since. And I happen to like hospital food!) As kids grow they get ever so much more complicated and harder to please and make…
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One Year Ago:
Christmas-time last year we were otherwise occupied. Tomorrow Aidan turns one. Oh my. And today the blog turns two. Vincent wasn’t yet two when I began it. Time’s wingèd chariot is fueled by the adrenaline-kick of children! Happy Birthday, Aidan!
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The Storm that Wasn’t.
Out here in the western part of the state we didn’t get so much as a stray snowflake from the so-called blizzard. We already have a foot of snow on the ground, so I’m not exactly complaining, but it was a surprise to wake up to nothing when I was expecting at least a foot…
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My Winter List.
I’m working on a rather ambitiously tall stack of books from my reading list, and picked up two novels, Colum McCann’s Let the Great World Spin and Annie Dillard’s The Maytrees, from the library. Which I haven’t even opened yet because of the magnificent richness of poetry books I’m reading: I won a free copy…
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Draft of the Week, #10.
Did you know there’s going to be a partial lunar eclipse on December 31, 2009? I was already working on this poem yesterday when I read this — there are amazing websites that list all the upcoming celestial happenings, and run graphics that show you what the sky/moon/sun will look like during the event. Because…
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Stripped-down Christmas.
In a confluence of my more austere tendencies and financial necessity, we are celebrating a present-free Christmas this year. You heard me: present-free. Fortunately the boys are both young enough that we can do this without their feeling deprived — they don’t yet associate Christmas with loot. Par example: It snowed this past weekend, and…
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She’s a hurricane.
It’s been an atypically social week here. I met my former bookshop co-workers at one’s Amherst apartment for lunch, and on two separate evenings heard 6 different poets read: * Tim Mayo — not for the first time, he’s a great friend, but I so enjoy hearing him; Jan Freeman — this publisher of Paris…
Marie Gauthier 