A Few More Sentences - 02
A Few More Sentences - 02
Manidoo-Giizisoons (Little Spirit Moon) Edition
Boozhoo, indinawemaaganidog! Aaniin! That is to say hello, all of my relatives! Happy New Year! Welcome to the FIFTH EVER PAID SUBSCRIBER ONLY EDITION! of An Irritable Métis, and the second edition of the monthly sentences. That’s where I post my daily, single sentences for the month, based on the practice that ultimately led to my first book, One-Sentence Journal, back in 2018. This post (and every subsequent one to this theme, which will arrive on or around the first of every month), as mentioned, is for paid subscribers only. If you’re someone who really digs this newsletter but just can’t add more expense to your existence, I get it. Just contact me and let me know, no questions asked, and I’ll hook you up. I want a community here, not customers. Otherwise, if you’ve been on the fence, here’s your chance….
December, 2022
2022_1201: Overnight snow turns Council Grove otherworldly.
2022_1202: On a day where the temperature returns to plunging, a great blue heron stands in a field, shoulders hunched, in a posture that grumbles, “Fuck this….”
2022_1203: Chasing the sun westward on snowshoes.
2022_1204: The days sometimes pass all too quickly, even when, particularly when, they are deliciously slow.
2022_1205: On a day burdened by a flurry of disappointing cancellations, email rejections, and assorted mild irritations, the plunge into complete surliness is averted with leather gloves thudding into a swinging bag the size of an obnoxious torso, and the luminous sweat and breathlessness that accompanies it.
2022_1206: The big field is divided by inhabitants into something like neighborhoods: one where the great blue heron is resolutely post-holing through the snow; one where dozens of Canada geese are bedded down in rag-tag arrangement; one where the deer congregate both prone and upright, with a few of the more intrepid ones crossing over into new communities; and finally, like at the spot where the road ends at a gate because the developer lost right-of-way, an eagle tears at something on the ground while a number of magpies and crows keep a respectful distance waiting for possible meaty scraps.
2022_1207: A heap of bright red maple leaves, limp and thawed in the slushy, muddy muck of the roadside, looks like the churned-up horror of an unidentifiable kill site.