Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

only the new day dawns to which we are awake March 5, 2011

Filed under: anecdotes — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:27 am
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prompt #61 What is the longest you’ve been awake?

The morning dawned with excitement.  Today our exchange group was off to Quebec!  Our Quebecois ‘jumelles’ had been in town for two weeks, I had celebrated my 16th birthday with them, and now it was our turn to explore a new community on the other side of the country.  Of course, it was a red eye charter, but we were young and filled our jumelles’ last  day with fun before heading to the airport for our midnight flight to Vancouver. 

In Vancouver, several hundred teens were sent to an army drill hall to wait for our flight which was to depart in the wee hours of the morning.  We were starting to get distinctly blurry eyed at this point, without much to do but visit.  Some napped, some, like me, were still too excited about the cross Canada journey to consider sleeping.  It was something like 6 a.m when the plane left the tarmack in Vancouver.  We watched the sun rise across the country and landed in the very empty Mirabel Airport in Montreal.  Some of the group left us in Montreal, the rest of us waited for buses to take us to our host communities. 

My bus took us first to Quebec  City, then another bus took us south into the Beauce region.  It was now dinner time.  My jumelle’s parents greeted us, fed us a lovely dinner, and then she told them about her adventures in the West.  Somewhere around ten or eleven o’clock we crashed from exhaustion and I slept fourteen hours to recover.  We had been awake for over forty hours.

.

I have since had several other long trips with many connections and time changes.  I have many times been awake close to  this long (or perhaps longer), but this was the first such adventure, and it remains rooted firmly in my memory.

 

story: iloveross17 (chapter two) March 4, 2011

Filed under: narrative,Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:18 am
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Previous chapters: one,

(Chapter two)

user name: suzieq@

password: iloveross18mos

change password: confused1

Status updates:

Bixby- oh yeah man!

Zara- wtf?

Lena- save me from my boredom!

CHAT ALERT!

Zara- R U OK?

SusieQ- Ya

Zara-What happened?

SusieQ- Still trying to figure that out, actually.

Zara- Do u think Ross saw you making out with Dave?

SusieQ- 😦

 and onto chapter three

 

Fluevog here, Fluevog there… March 3, 2011

Filed under: Commentary,Grace Awakening — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:53 am
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Hot on the heels of my recent blog on Fluevog shoes, I discovered John Fluevog himself looking out at me from the cover of Vista magazine while I was visiting my local health food store today (stocking up on dark chocolate covered ginger and stevia)  Check it out. The article is on page 22. http://www.vistamagonline.com/

Fluevog is asked how his love of cars influences his shoe designs and he responds,

I like cars because I like the way they look; it has nothing to do with the way they drive.  I actually walk to work every day and I don’t drive that much, thought I have four cars.  Oddly enough, cars and shoes have a lot in common.  They’re multi-angular, multi-functional, continuously moving shapes.  I think cars are fashion guards–the lack of fashion lately in cars is a reflection of society and what people think.

This amuses me because in Grace Awakening Fatima the Bug is almost a character,

Like everything else about her, Auntie Bright’s car was very distinctive.  It was an ancient VW Beetle that she’d had painted a vivid Mediterranean blue, and then she’d hand painted it with a swirling variety of giant paisleys in purples, blues, yellows and reds.  Here and there were dots of gemstones glued on as accents, just to add sparkle.  At first glance it seemed as if she’d upholstered the car with vivid cloth and sequins.  People did double takes on the highway, and she generally had at least one person stop to admire and to ask her about it wherever she went.  Children were drawn to it.  People smiled as they saw her coming.  It always made her shake her head and remark, “People are such cowards.  They come and rave about how beautiful my car is, how they wish they could have a unique car, and yet they content themselves to drive around in boring mud coloured cookie cutters.  I don’t get it.”  (p. 269)

We’ve already established that  Bright would love Fluevog’s shoes.   I wonder what he’d think of Bright’s car?

Or mine, for that matter!

 

places to look for lost keys March 2, 2011

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:50 am
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I’ve looked

  • in the pocket of every coat worn this week
  • in the pocket of all pants worn this week
  • in every pocket of each purse used this week
  • under couch cushions
  • under a tree in the backyard where you watered plants when you go home
  • on a window sill
  • on a book shelf
  • in your gym bag
  • in the knitting bag
  • in the library bag
  • on the bedroom dresser
  • on the guest room dresser
  • on the dressing room dresser
  • in the cutlery drawer
  • on the kitchen counter
  • in the fridge (keeping Heather’s phone company)
  • on the key rack
  • with the lost harp tuning key, wandering free
  • tangled within the bed sheets
  • in the dog bed
  • on the fireplace mantle
  • on the ironing board
  • by the sewing machine
  • on the washing machine
  • rattling around inside the washing machine
  • buried on the coffee table
  • on the computer desk, or the other computer desk, or the other computer desk

 

So– where have YOU found your keys? Mine have to be here somewhere. Additional suggestions appreciated!

 

Pin pricks March 1, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:10 am
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prompt #58 What is the smallest thing beside you?

.

Angels are dancing

on the head of it
but from the other end
I’m being pricked
and poked.
I’m pitted with holes
and pinned together again.
My pieces are

held tightly and tautly
~if temporarily.

 

Grace February 28, 2011

Filed under: Grace Awakening,Literature,Pondering — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:30 am
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In Grace something is transcended, once and for all overcome. Grace happens in spite of something; it happens in spite of separateness and alienation. Grace means that life is once again united with life, self is reconciled with self. Grace transforms fate into a meaningful vocation. It transforms guilt to trust and courage. The word …grace has something triumphant in it.    ~Yrjö Kallinen

I found this quote on the Facebook status of friend who works at the UN. Aside from the concept of grace which is so beautifully explored here, I am fascinated that it was written by a Finn.  If Yrjö Kallinen was writing this in Finnish, it opens up another interesting language exploration, as there isn’t a single word for ‘grace’ in Finnish.  Perhaps Kallinen was thinking of gratia as there is a bit of the wealth of gratia gratium parit reflected here.

I want to know more about this.  If you know where this quote is from, please leave a comment so I can explore more.

Kiitos Yrjö!

Addendum:  March 1, 2011

I found this clip of Kallinen.  He’s speaking Finnish, and so the majority of you will have to read the sub-titles, but if you’re curious to hear his lovely clear enunciation that even I can make sense of have a listen.  Apparently Kallinen was a pacifist and conscientious objector who nonetheless was Finland’s Minister of Defence from 1946-48.  He is speaking about life and dreams and how to revolutionize thinking.  Quite apropos to what is happening in the Middle East at the moment.

Elämmekö unessa? (Are we living in a dream) pt 2 – 1 Translation(s) | dotSUB.

 

up all night February 27, 2011

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:17 am
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Prompt #56 (b?)  What keeps you up at night?

Story. 

Given any opportunity- a weekend or a holiday, for example- I switch immediately to 4 a.m. to noon which seems to be my natural inclination.  At 4 a.m. I fall asleep without effort, like other people seem to be able to do at 9 or 10:00.  Before 4 a.m. I tend to lie awake hearing dialogues, watching scenes, formulating letters, contemplating plots…

If I start reading a book in the evening, I must finish the book.  Unless I’ve already read it, or it is really boring, I pick up a book and finish it in basically one sitting.  If I happen to have a whole series at hand, the rest of the world will stop as I read through from first book to last without a break. 

This tendency to nightly story telling probably originated with the bedtime stories my father told me as a kid.  I was one who hid my light to read into the night.  Sometimes I heard the morning bird chorus and fell asleep only briefly before getting up for school in a couple of hours.  If I don’t have another author’s story in my head, I tend to lie in bed telling my own, by making sense of the life story I’m living, creating stronger dialogue and better plot lines.  I’ve been crafting stories to myself forever.

Stories keep me up all night.

 

Story: iloveross17 (chapter one) February 26, 2011

Filed under: narrative,Poetry,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:06 am
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Log in
User name: suzieq@
Password: iloveross17mos
Change password: iloveross18mos

Status updates:

Zara- math test! Gonna die.

Bixby- what is the reason to fear what we do not understand?

Ross- is now single.

Lena- have to babysit my little sister, someone text me!

CHAT ALERT!
Zara- Suzanne! OMG! Are you ok?!!!

Log off

.

Deep breath.
Ross…is single??????????

.

 —————————————————————

Next installment: Chapter 2

.

.

Submitted as part of  Monday Poetry Potluck Mar 7, 2011.  If you’re here from the potluck, add the link to your contribution in a comment.

 

Thinking historically February 25, 2011

As my final thought on Guiding and Scouting Week, I think of the stories my dad tells of his days as a Boy Scout.

My father was a Scout in the 1920s and 30s and he has fond memories of camping in the then very rustic Tamaracouta Boy Scout Camp near Montreal.  Tamaracouta is still running, and it is the oldest continuing Scout Camp in the world.  We have a photo of my dad and his teen buddies  posing on a bridge in their Stetson hats and hiking poles on their way to Tamaracouta.  Each teen has laughing eyes, gleaming with the fun of Scouting adventures.   It is extremely poignant that within fifteen years the majority of the group had died fighting in World War Two. 

My dad is a whiz at knots and he taught me quite  few of them.  I was the fastest clove hitch tier in Guiding due to his training!  Dad talks of hiking into Tamaracouta, swimming the lake and falling out of boats with great fondness for the adventures, but also for the great friends who shared them.

Dad is also rather proud that he saw Lord and Lady Baden-Powell when they came to Canada on tour.  He thought the young lady was a daughter, and was surprised when I pointed out B-P was some 30 years older than his wife Olave Soames!  Dad did his best to follow B-P’s lead on that score as well, though Dad’s beautiful young wife (my mother) was only 15 years his junior.

What are some of your Scouting memories?

 Vincent Martin, Herb Duguay, Kenneth Dow, Hart Savage, Jack Dow.

Montreal scouts going to Tamaracouta c1930

The Boy Scouts are (L>R) Vincent Martin, Herb Duguay, Kenneth Dow, Hart Savage and Jack Dow.

 

Thinking again February 24, 2011

Well, I am glad that Thinking Day occurs in Scouting Week, so I can carry on with my theme of Girl Guide memories with some impunity. 

Another fun memory of Guiding is singing around the campfire.  I even put a campfire scene in Grace Awakening to celebrate these moments.  One of my favorite things is making up a verse of Quartermaster’s Store for everyone present around the fire.

Got a name?  I’ll make you a verse!  I’m serious!  Send me the name (and pronunciation if it’s not a common name) in the comment section below and I’ll make you a verse for your personal use within Guiding (or wherever your campfire happens to be).

 If you don’t remember the song it goes like this:

♪ My eyes are dim I can not see ♪

♪ I have not brought my specs with me ♪

 ♪I havvvvvve no-ot brought . my. specs. with. me. ♪

There was Shawn, Shawn making out with John ♪

♪ in the store ♪ in the store ♪

♪ There was Shawn, Shawn making out with John ♪

 ♪ in the quartermaster’s stor-or-ore ♪

Come on- gather ’round my fire!

PS. My husband is John.  My Guides loved the naughtiness of this! lol