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 FOURTEENTH EDITION! of the monthly sentences.
For those of you new here, this monthly edition, where I post my daily, single sentences that I’ve accumulated for the month-just-ended, is based on the practice that ultimately led to my first book, One-Sentence Journal, back in 2018. It’s worth noting that that book came out on August 14, 2018, and it was August 14, 2023 that I received the telephone call from the governor telling me he was appointing me Montana Poet Laureate for 2023–2025. So there is magic to be found in the practice, if one is diligent!
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. If you feel compelled to offer up a few of your own in the comments, I would love to see them.
2023_1201: The year’s last calendar page commences, ominously warm.
2023_1202: My Crow brother honors me onto the stage with a drum song.
2023_1203: Arrived for the first of two nights in Glendive, Montana, a mythical place from my youth because my 4th grade teacher, the unimaginably-old-to-us-at-the-time Gwen Parker, who had uncanny aim in hurling hunks of chalk and chalk board erasers across the room at the disruptive or inattentive, spoke often of being from here.
2023_1204: Like a glowing beacon announcing an oasis in the middle of a food desert the sign brightly announces “Best Nachos in Town” but, after partaking, I realize I could have gone instead to the grocery store for tortilla chips and shredded cheese, employed the microwave in my grubby hotel room, and claimed that title for myself.
2023_1205: Not a single person in attendance not long before showtime for my Miles City event and I’m wildly disappointed if only because, given the relationship my people have with this town’s namesake, Col. Nelson Miles, I’d have thought at least one crusty old racist would have shown up with a rifle to take potshots at me.
2023_1206: A triumphant conclusion in the People’s House to another year of storytelling mayhem.
2023_1207: Not four hours with eyes closed and the alarm chases me out the door to catch a flight to warmer climes.
2023_1208: Dubious room-brewed coffee improves mightily when there is a sunny porch outside to enjoy it from.
2023_1209: Forest bathing among the palo verde and giant saguaro just west of Gates Pass.
2023_1210: Perhaps too windy for flight, the Chihuahuan raven takes to the ground and struts for his handouts.
2023_1211: In-character side-eye gleefully reigns at the gaming table.
2023_1212: Seeming as if to force him from the sky, the fog rises while Mishomis settles in for the night.
2023_1213: To be filed in the dossier containing evidence of all my stupidities: the realization that I’m never going to resolve my truck’s whining evidence of low fluid in the power steering reservoir by checking the BRAKE fluid reservoir, which remains at capacity, no matter how many days in a row I check it, puzzled.
2023_1214: A beer and excellent conversation in the company of my newly-acquired literary agent.
2023_1215: Never underestimate the potential of a predicted hour long task to actually require three.
2023_1216: Hard winter frost like tinsel on bare willow and cottonwood branches, every nest revealed.
2023_1217: Half-a-day’s driving in and it’s finally time to tune the connected world out.
2023_1218: Four transformative hours up and down the Lamar Valley to begin a sub-zero day that could not be more sun-filled and glorious.
2023_1219: The guy in the pickup with Wyoming plates and a window sticker that proclaims “I’m 177.6% certain I’m not giving up my guns” pressuring the road buffalo doesn’t seem to understand that those buffalo give far, far fewer than 177.6 fucks where he has to be and when.
2023_1220: A chill up my spine as the prairie wolf pauses in the middle of her trot to bark once, twice, and then throw her head back to unleash a throaty howl.
2023_1221: There is no wrapping paper involved when ten people gather around a spirited fire to exchange gifts of compassion and attention while celebrating the longest night of the year, attended by Nookomis and a dazzling myriad of star relatives.
2023_1222: I’m much more patient waiting for buffalo to take as long as they want in the middle of the road than I am when my progress is bogged-down by similarly-sized vehicles pretty much anywhere around town.
2023_1223: Amid the turmoil and frustration and traffic of the season, a large wedge of noisy Canada geese overhead reminds me that the better parts of the world continue regardless of the trivialities that too often derail my attention.
2023_1224: A perfect day for the deep appreciation of the simplest Christmas lights properly displayed.
2023_1225: No reindeer in the yard this morning, but whatever list I occupy that did bring nine northern flickers to it is one I’m happy to be on.
2023_1226: A pair of migiziwag huddle side-by-side in the upper reaches of a bare cottonwood tree just off the Bitterroot River.
2023_1227: Achievement unlocked: 1000 hours outside.
2023_1228: On my way to check out I took a hard left turn into the Seasonal aisle at the Albertson’s hoping to find an overlooked box or two of Christmas peanut brittle only to discover that, to my horror, the shelves were already overtaken with Valentines Day garbage.
2023_1229: Waiting for winter this year is like being seated at the back of a restaurant and realizing many anguishing minutes later that no one told the server you are there.
2023_1230: December into January more like April into May way up top of Lolo Pass.
2023_1231: I’m grateful the owls make their presence known with their voices because, unlike the goldeneyes, no way would I hear their passage overhead.
So tell us: What were your top five of……basically anything???
Stealing this from my pal AHP over at Culture Study1 who asked … well, the title says it all. It is a great and entertaining idea so I thought I would share my response here and beseech anyone reading and interested in sharing to do the same. It can be as many as you want of anything, but let’s try and keep the max at five just for brevity’s sake. This is a one-sentence post, after all. 😂
In no particular order, the Top 5 stretches of non-interstate highway I drove as a result of my various and frequent perambulations around the state of Montana:
1 – Highway 212, Red Lodge to Cooke City (also known as the Beartooth Highway, which I can’t think about without hearing it to the tune of Gordon Lightfoot singing “Carefree Highway”)
2 – Highway 2, Whitehall to Butte (over Pipestone Pass)
3 – Highway 271, Drummond to Helmville
4 – Highway 13, Wolf Point to Circle
5 – Highway 236, Judith Landing to Big Sandy (dirt road all the way!)
About a Week Out
I’m going to be back at the Missoula Public Library on January 10th in support of my friend Peter Stark’s new book: Gallop Toward the Sun: Tecumseh and William Henry Harrison's Struggle for the Destiny of a Nation.
More details HERE but here is the plan in a concise nutshell:
An in-depth discussion about the conquest of Indigenous land in North America and the often overlooked efforts of tribal cooperation to stand against it, viewed through the lens of the Shawnee chief Tecumseh, the subject of Stark’s new book, and La Tray’s own Pembina Chippewa/Little Shell people.
Hope to see some of you locals there! Peter’s no dull historian and neither am I, so expect the conversation to be spirited!
Yes, it’s paywalled, but AHP is well worth a few dollars a month, and if you can’t fit another newsletter in your budget she’ll let you in anyway….
You with your brake and power steering lines LOL - love it! This is me with much of life.
Top Five Hotel Room Coffees:
1 -
2 -
3 -
4 -
5 -
And I just double checked to make sure I had those in the right order... Happy New Year, Chris. Thanks for these monthly emails, they truly make my day.
Top five bird experiences:
1. The despair at finding a yellow warbler window hit on the deck, scooping it into my palm wondering if it will die there to save it from my pretend-to-be-hunting-dogs (chi included) and stood still with the glorious color and design of that beautiful creature in my palm to memorize, as I watched them slowly recover, cocking their head slightly to look at me, only to fly off without any hint of movement into the birches unscathed, matching the color of the last August sunlight in the leaves.
2. Despair at a nuthatch wandering into my room in the summer warmth, hearing its familiar beep-beep call now indoors on my window sill, and resting in the disguise of dust and a drop cloth acting as a blind, and then the sweet bird waited for me to get a ladder to place next to them, and stood still enough for me to grab them gently and carry them outside, flying off in a whir of wings, whispering.
3. Despair at a chickadee flying into my room in the summer warmth, worried again about my avid crazed dogs, only to find the chickadee descending into my hands as it reached the high corner of the room, the weight of its body still in the feeling of my hands as it flew off, again in a whisper.
4. The magpies returning to the feeder and the nuthatches unbothered by their noise and mess.
5. The steller's jays returning to say hello in the quiet of a magpie respite.
The wolf! The brake fluid! a literary agent! BISON. the NINE flickers. Miss those birds, glad to read they're visiting you frequently my friend.