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A Few More Sentences – 10
Manoominike-giizis (Ricing Moon) Edition
Boozhoo, indinawemaaganidog! Aaniin! That is to say hello, all of my relatives! Welcome to another edition of An Irritable Métis. In this case, I am happy to present the TENTH EDITION! of the monthly sentences. For those of you new here, that’s where I post my daily, single sentences that I’ve accumulated for the month-just-ended, based on the practice that ultimately led to my first book, One-Sentence Journal, back in 2018. It’s a simple practice and fulfilling … and also maybe not so simple as it may seem. Regardless, the practice is excellent training for paying attention to the small moments of my life, and I enjoy sharing those moments here. As always, I deeply appreciate your time and attention. And if you feel compelled to offer up a few of your own in the comments, I would love to see them.
2023_0801: For the second day in a row the neighbor down the street who drives the big pickup with flags in the back waves and flashes such a bright smile my way as she passes that I vow to my ancestors to do a better job of not being such a knee-jerk, judgmental arsehole.
2023_0802: Green, eager reminders of where the big cottonwood used to be thrust up and flourish in spite of the heat and drought.
2023_0803: One hummingbird chases two others away from the feeder only to be denied access by three loitering wasps.
2023_0804: Arrival of the season of dry creek beds.
2023_0805: Sleepless, I stand guard at a doorway to protect the resting state of my struggling heart.
2023_0806: Even at peak jerk, it’s hard for me to imagine this little male hummingbird as being someone truly mean and bullying but, instead, maybe just a little rascal who needs an auntie-who-has-had-enough to come along and give his ear a good yanking.
2023_0807: Outside inspection day at the park and I’m tempted to makes signs for all the mailboxes that read, “Fuck off, Lahey, this isn’t the South Hills!” and giggle at the idea of even only one other person here getting it.
2023_0808: I’m not going to lie: my soul has been energized by the fantasy of joining a bunch of shirtless Indians in tossing shirtless bros into a river and remaking the world in memes.
2023_0809: Autocorrect tried to get me to change “Migizi” to “mini I” and I choose to read the message as tricky Nanaboozhoo reminding me it’s possible to be seen now and then as the much smaller, human incarnation of love.
2023_0810: Every expedition demands an efficient packing system and I am constantly, joyfully, tweaking mine.
2023_0811: Sitting on a rock bench reading poems in the cool shade of an unfamiliar tree, serenaded by the glorious, unexpected, unfamiliar racket of cicadas.
2023_0812: Rolling tundra at the top of the world.
2023_0813: “Isn’t it beautiful?”
2023_0814: After just a little rain, the yellowing cottonwood across the way has turned all green and perky again.
2023_0815: With big news comes the need to express gratitude; it’s time to return to the riverbank and listen for the echoes of tiny paws, running.
2023_0816: Smoke fills the valley from the north after an evening that featured a clear sky and a wildfire’s massive, surging gray and white plume billowing high and apocalyptic.
2023_0817: The flare and hiss of a match set to a candle wick in morning darkness reminds me of winter.
2023_0818: Clouds, potential rain that never arrives, and a high temperature ten degrees below the forecast makes for an unexpectedly pleasant afternoon to be exhausted in.
2023_0819: The sparrows at the feeder explode with alarm calls and I turn and watch a local cat saunter by like she doesn’t care, but you know getting yelled at by a bunch of grubby birds must be a little humiliating for a feline.
2023_0820: Migizi presides over my tobacco offering.
2023_0821: Rain all day heralds the approach of stinky wet dog season.
2023_0822: Are those gunshots I hear down the street – boom! boom! boom! – sounding for all the world like someone hitting a big marching drum with a fuzzy beater?
2023_0823: The shooting victim passes again as she does most mornings and I, while knowing next to nothing of her story, am filled with such tenderness for her.
2023_0824: Sunny hour spent in the company of a friend so happy to relate her experience workshopping with a mutually beloved poet.
2023_0825: Funny the difference it would have made in my demeanor if the middle-aged white dude checking me out at the Costcos had instead asked what birds I get at my feeders while scanning my bird seed purchase instead of the unsolicited advice concerning who to keep away from it, which elicited only my best effort at flat-eyed, flat-mouthed emoji face.
2023_0826: A pair of enormous sandhill cranes wing low over the golden field, chuckling as they go, lit up by the morning sunlight as if it were made for them.
2023_0827: Best man at my magnificent son’s beautiful wedding.
2023_0828: The wee calliope sits on a branch preening and fluttering her wings and tracking the passage of other birds with her eyes and I realize I’m not the only one out here easing into the morning with curiosity.
2023_0829: Working from a covered porch during an overdue rainstorm isn’t a bad gig if you can get it.
2023_0830: “Not that cousin, my other cousin!” says the Native woman into her phone as she crosses my path during my first hour back on campus for the year.
2023_0831: Highway 89 south out of Choteau, flotillas of duck butts on Freezout Lake.