I feel Purdy

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…oh so purdy.

One last look at where I was, for now. I’ll be back next year I hope, or sooner. The two weeks rocked. Work was great, the people were great, the writing went… oh so purdy.

Last night was a busy night.

Here are some shots of the CBC Canada Reads event which was held in conjunction with Saskatoon’s Her-icane Festival–which takes place March 2-12. My camera batteries have now died and I’m unable to post the rest of the pictures so these two will have to do for now.
I was reading from Al Purdy’s rooms for rent in the outer planets.Thanks to everyone who came out to hear this special event. I’ll be reading my own work at the Her-icane Festival on March 9 at McNally Robinson so if you’re around, come out, come out…(although I can’t promise that I won’t sing).

Jeanette Lynes reading from Miriam Toews A Complicated Kindness and Jeanette’s own book of poetry titled A Woman Alone on the Atikokan Highway. Jeanette is the writer in residence at the Saskatoon Public Library.

Later I drove back to St. Pete’s for one final bash with my fellow colonists. I arrived just in time for the sing along with all my fellow accomplished writers, musicians, singers, and artists. Most of our accoustic stylings were happily provided by artist Terry O’Flanagan . Lucky for us, Terry is not only a talented artist (he was doing restoration work at the college while we were there), but picks out (his playing and singing were great) many sing along songs on his guitar. I’m sure we wore him out with all our requests. Mari-Lou serenaded us a wonderful song and Kimmy sang her lovely heart out for us. Bernadette and I stayed up too late, which was just fine for my last night there. Rhona lent me a fresh pair of batteries for my camera and I had fun filming a few videos. Ah, the release from the utopian world was, as always, fun but sad.

My singing happened on the way home when I put the stereo on–I don’t listen to much when I write so I was ready to blast the music–and listened to Joss Stone’s Soul Sessions (and myself) belt out “Fell in love with a boy” and “Some kind of wonderful”. Of course, this was after I played all my usual sappy songs that I love to sing to in the car. And like all happy endings, I was able to get home in time to surprise my children when they strolled in the door from school, reaped my award of many hugs–which I missed–and within five minutes was happily scrounging to find them something to eat. Home, home on the range.

3 thoughts on “I feel Purdy”

  1. ’twas a late night indeed. and morning came even earlier for me having to say goodbye to you all last night and hit the road at the crack of dawn. i prefer the late-night goodbyes around the guitars and the booze table to the early morning not-quite-awake ones. hence my disappearing act.

    a splendid time was guaranteed for (and was had by) all. certainly me anyway.

  2. yes home is
    purdy wonderful

    i had my writer group meeting tonight

    read your “Recollection” to them

    a few wanted to borrow my copy your book

    but i still have it

    Ken

  3. Ah kimmy. We did miss you the next morning when I was a combination of wanting to go and dreading the whole thing. I agree with you that the night before thing is much easier.

    Ken, I know that poem well.

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