Unrelated thingies

Wednesday was moving day for Dana. She moved only a short distance away. Four of us and a van did the job. There's a reason I'm not a professional mover. Dana's new place is pretty spectacular. I still live like a student.

Who is Canada's hardest-working poet? Certainly not me. I haven't written in quite a while. I'd say Kevin Connolly is Canada's hardest-working poet. And among the best. Everybody should read Drift, his book from Anansi. It continues his two-decade assault on poetry that perhaps began with the leaflet of his I published in the '80s, A Canadian In Paris.

Started rekindling my Spanish in preparation for the Chile trip, which is only a few weeks away. Still have a 40-hour course to design, but have lots of ideas for it. I bought a 900-page book of poems by Neruda; it has multiple translations of some of the poems.

A painful kiss: a smouch.

Tomorrow Gary and I read The Mud Game in its entirety at This Ain't The Rosedale Library. Maybe we'll just read it to each other.

I haven't spoken to my brother since the summer, if even then. I left him a "Happy birthday" voicemail on September 18.

Was checking out the links on fHole, where I'd been enjoying the photos of torn posters lately, and discovered that Daniel has a site devoted to his visual work. I feel dumb for not having known that.

I got reports from two people who saw my Heart Of A Poet episode on BookTV. I wasn't notified that it was airing. The producer and I will be at the same party on Sunday: that should be fun.

I bet it's really cold in Yellowknife. Oh, Yellowknife. I miss Deborah and her family. I miss the Vietnamese noodle place.

I'm growing a beard of a kind I've never had.

Over and out.