The cleansing Fall wind

I love the fall.

Getting out my warm sweaters,

 looking forward to wearing the old suede jacket.

Walking in the city on a Monday afternoon with the wind blowing through my hair.

When I walk in the fall and the wind is blowing,

 I practically feel the airing of my brain.

You know how you air out a room with the windy fresh air?

That’s how I feel walking in the fall.

I made a new friend recently,

 and she,

 like me,

 enjoys a walk by the river.

Montreal is on the St-Lawrence and the neighborhood where I live,

 in spite of it’s many negatives,

is bordered by the river.

At night in the fall ,

you can walk without too much traffic and it’s pretty well lit.

We are still getting to know each other, so,

we still talk, constantly.

We’re both talkers,

 and we haven’t gotten to the point of comfortable silence,


We will.

I’m having a lot of trouble reading anything right now.

I can’t concentrate except for short stories.

Of course, a major drought for me is three or four days,

so obviously it won’t last.

I’m still reading the Raymond Carver,

 I like it,

 it’s about ordinary people doing ordinary things.

Little sketches of people’s lives.

Damn good.

I realise, I’m not making it sound so interesting but, it is.

If you are fascinated by humans and human nature in all it’s forms,

 it’s for you.

People living their lives for better, for worse.

Going to work, raising children, smoking dope, cheating on their mates.

Everyday stuff,

good/bad, lovely/ugly

and everything in between.

No rich people, no bourgeois’.

Working class and the idle poor.


The edition I am reading is,

 The Library Of America’s Carver Collected Stories.

I love The Library Of America,

 their editions are authoritative and they are reasonably priced.

The size and weight is just right to read and lug around.

Their mission, to keep all important American writing in print, is admirable.

Their non-profit status, even better.

I own a few and would like to own a few more.

When I take them out of the library,

I know I get an authoritative sample of an author’s work.

Well, that’s it for now.

Later girls


I always knew I was weird

My reading has been all over the map lately.

 Last night I started reading a book of letters by James Agee.

 I have never read James Agee, although, I have been meaning to for years.

 He wrote, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men which features photographs by my favorite photographer,

Walker Evans.

 This book is an homage to the working people and the poor in Depression era USA.

 I heard about Agee some time ago,probably on PBS.

 He was also a fantastic movie critic and his work: critique, prose and poetry is collected  in two volumes of

 The Library Of America.

I had one of the volumes in the bookstore a couple of years ago, it went so fast I barely had time to look at it.

 Ever since,I have been on the lookout, so on my last visit of the Grande Bibliotheque,

 I spotted this book of letters, so I took it out.

 I like to wander around quasi aimlessly, it’s fun and surprising.

 I figured it would give me an idea of his voice, it’s terrific.

 Really gives insight into the ups and downs of the creative process and how difficult it is to earn a living.

 I will definetly be reading more of his work.

 But, the truly weird part —this book has been part of the collection since 1962 and

I am the first person to take it out.

I know Montreal is a mostly French speaking city, but still…

I always new I was weird, odd, as my friend Jane would say a Martian?

I guess I am distinct in a distinct society.  lol.

Later girls