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Saturday morning

I know, I’m falling down on my job here – sorry to have gone AWOL. I’m busy getting ready for yet another venture into the unknown, and one of the big jobs before I go is getting the last 3 years of this blog ready to be self-published. That means cutting. I’m cutting huge chunks, almost every comment about the weather – my God, I’ve cut almost all of Provence, most of the posts consist of me rhapsodizing about lunch, dinner and every morsel of food in between. Does this woman ever shut up? Enough already!

So, newly aware of my volubility, perhaps I’ve not wanted to underscore it by jabbering once more, on and on, to you. Yet jabber I must, because it’s my self-appointed job.
Well, there’s not that much to tell you – except about the weather. Last week we had record-breaking warmth, one soft sunny spring day after another, a great blessing even if it’s terrible for the polar bears. Yesterday I put on rubber boots and washed my bicycle, covered with mud from one particularly ill-advised ride to the dentist through a foot of slush. As I scrubbed, a great Downchild Blues Band concert was blasting from the radio, MC’d by old friend from Ottawa days, Dan Ackroyd. I danced and sang and washed, and now my bike is sparkling. Today, back to more normal temperatures with a bite in the air.
Morris and Ken’s production of “Art” which W’son, Mary Fay and I saw in dress rehearsal last week has had the best reviews. “Run don’t walk” to see it and “This production is near perfection” in the “Globe.” So what are you waiting for, my Toronto friends? Run! And Laurel Croza’s gorgeous book “I know here” has just received a rave review in the “Globe” as well: “emotional resonance and visual impact,” it says, “a beautifully wrought tale.” Run don’t walk to buy that, too. Great to have such talented friends. It’s too bad about old Dan A., though – he showed such comic promise in 1968. I wonder what happened to him.
Speaking of talent, Mr. Ch*y has done me and other editor friends the honour of sending 20 pages of his new novel for feedback. What a privilege to see into the workings of his fine, rich imagination, his phenomenal skill with words and images. He’s well launched, at the beginning of a long journey. It’s going to be fabulous.
My student and friend Helen, who’s Czech, came yesterday for an editing session, bearing the key to her apartment … in Prague. She’s kindly lending it to me for a week in April. Prague! Everyone who has been there adores the place. I sense more rhapsodizing coming on. I have eight days to get organized before flying out to Paris the Monday after next. But this time, unlike last, I’ll be travelling light, friends are staying in the house … it’ll be so much easier than last time that I’ll barely notice I’m leaving, and neither will you.



2 Responses to “Saturday morning”

  1. Carolyn says:

    I'm looking forward to reading about your travels in April.
    Have you seen Les Plages Des Agnes by Agnes Varda? I was finally able to get it on DVD. I thought this film was stunning and an interesting form of memoir. Not being much of a film buff, I would be interested to hear what you think of it.
    Happy trails,

  2. beth says:

    Carolyn, I'm ashamed to say that I've never heard of this movie, but having heard from you and checked it out online, I look forward to renting it at some point – it sounds wonderful. Varda looks about 50 – I couldn't believe that she's over 80! Ah, those French. It's the cheese. Thanks for telling me about this.
    all the best and thanks for your best wishes, here we go again but LIGHTER

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

Some Blogs I Follow

Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.


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