A Few More Sentences – 05
Onaabani-giizis (Snowcrust Moon) Edition
Boozhoo, indinawemaaganidog! Aaniin! That is to say hello, all of my relatives! Welcome to what would have been the EIGHTH EVER PAID SUBSCRIBER ONLY EDITION! of An Irritable Métis, EXCEPT IT’S NOT! While this is the fifth edition of the monthly sentences – you know, the ones where I post my daily, single sentences for the previous month, based on the practice that ultimately led to my first book, One-Sentence Journal, back in 2018 – which means it should be for paying subscribers only. But this time I’m handing it out to everyone. “What, are you out of your mind?!” you might say, but I’m not! You see, this is a day of celebration for two reasons. First, IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! so consider it my gift to you, and second, THE LATEST ROUND OF EDITS OF BLS1 ARE HEADED TO MY PUBLISHER! That second one is a huge deal to me, friends.
This newsletter edition also features the SECOND EVER AUDIO INCLUSION! where I recite the sentences over some clever background audio ambiance. Talk about a veritable cornucopia of content, right?!
And since it is my birthday and all, if you’ve been considering the following, well, what better time….
March, 2023
2023_0301: A day away from the tyranny of electronic communication and it piles up at the door like a heavy wet snowstorm in May and is no more welcome either.
2023_0302: I ventured out for a nighttime saunter into a light breeze tossing around a few snow flakes; ten minutes and half-a-mile or so later the wind was howling and waves of snow were coming at me sideways.
2023_0303: Just as the sun descends behind the ridge of mountains to the southwest a raft of well over one hundred goldeneyes takes whistling to the sky from the cold silver surface of the Clark Fork River.
2023_0304: More and more patches of dirt and pine needles opening up between the stretches of ice on the Maclay Flat trail.
2023_0305: Passing by the willow tree, the cold morning breeze catches hold of last year’s brittle and desiccated leaves clinging to her bare limbs and swirls them clattering around me as I pass.
2023_0306: Monday should be renamed because our lovely Moon does not deserve to bear such an ignominious burden.
2023_0307: Firelight and clear skies to celebrate the Moon of Crusted Snow.
2023_0308: Early morning and, with Nookomis lingering on the western horizon, Mishomis arrives in blazing red, orange, and yellow light.
2023_0309: So many long drives now that passage to Seattle feels little more than a trip across town.
2023_0310: If the crowds on hand at the largest writers conference of the year are any indication, it would appear that the literary future won’t necessarily be all about the white guys … provided the gatekeepers allow such cultural evolution to happen.
2023_0311: It’s a wonderful Saturday when one can exchange grins with a curious harbor seal.
2023_0312: Flocks of snow geese over I-90 at Ellensburg.
2023_0313: The true payment for a vigorous Saturday work-out comes due: the over-jabbed left shoulder is almost entirely out of commission.
2023_0314: On my first day back in several days, Migizi greets my arrival at Council Grove with several tight circles above the trees, low enough that I can hear the sweep and whoosh of her mighty wings.
2023_0315: Thanks to the foolishness of this abominable practice in tinkering with the illusion of tracking time, the road north resumes, once again, in darkness.
2023_0316: I’m eager for spring as the next person, in my way, but during the coming months I will deeply miss cold saunters in the dark.
2023_0317: Considering the soulless activities of Montana’s diabolical legislature, I half expected a dark, rumbling cloud bank roiling with angry lightning hanging over the city of Helena as I arrived but, no, it was just blue sky, and a reminder from the timeless firmament that yes, eventually all those fuckers will be dead.
2023_0318: What else can be said about wildlife seen on a road trip when the first bluebird of the year reveals himself near Garrison Junction on the drive back from the state capital?
2023_0319: Spring looms in the valley, but on the trails of Roman Creek not enough snow has melted to even make it muddy.
2023_0320: On my morning saunter – the official first outing of spring – I hear a donkey vigorously braying in the not-so-great distance and wonder if it is as painful to the animal as it sounds.
2023_0321: Who knew Emo Vader could fight dinosaurs?!
2023_0322: Morning drive north under a glorious sunrise with so many bizhiki grazing their way across the slopes of the Bison Range.
2023_0323: Walking into a room full of friendship.
2023_0324: Thin clouds mute all the lights in the sky if not for a thumbnail of Moon, and Venus in all her magnificence.
2023_0325: The gray, blustery-wind-and-swirling-snowlike-landscape of late March is much more charming in November.
2023_0326: I’ve been seeing them for some time but this morning was the first during which my early saunter was accompanied by the music of robins serenading the sunrise.
2023_0327: The silver lining to being sick or injured is the sublime pleasure felt when you aren’t anymore.
2023_0328: “It’s crazy how much time we don’t spend outside” a friend tells me, and I am grateful for having been outside for the encounter.
2023_0329: The security team can’t even be bothered to leave their beds anymore when I burst through the front door late in the evening.
2023_0330: Heavy clouds, rain, and fresh snow on Evaro for the drive to visit my young friends in Dixon.
2023_0331: Hamstrings announce an imminent intention to detach from my body and take the weekend off.
On the Porch
Here’s the effort toward reading these lines. By the time I got to it I was in a hurry and sort of half-assed it but that’s how things go sometimes. I even kinda flubbed one of the lines but we do things live around here and whatever happens, happens. I hope you like it. Background ambiance this time around was the soundscape from a camp chair on the porch to my Westside Missoula lair on a sunny afternoon.
Miigwech for reading, friends! I hope your April is off to a good start.
That is Becoming Little Shell, the work of memoir/nonfiction I’ve been laboring over for ages on behalf of Milkweed Editions.
Glad for the day you were born (Apsaalooke greeting).
Thanks for generously giving us a gift on your birthday :-) This group is like "walking into a room full of friendship." Enjoy celebrating life and your book!