A Few More Sentences – 18
Iskigamizige-giizis (Boiling Sap 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 EIGHTEENTH 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 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 observations in the comments, I would love to see them.
Do you like these sentences and anything else you see here? Consider becoming a paid subscriber! Because in poet laureate world, the refrain these days is, “What will run out first: the fiscal year or the money?”
Preorders for Becoming Little Shell are going strong. I’d love you to consider that too, if you are of a mind to! You may do so HERE. I’ve received some wonderful blurbs for the book from writers I admire immensely and I’ll be sharing them in the coming weeks.
Finally, remember I’ve decided to revive an Instagram account. You may follow me HERE (and thanks to all of you who already have!) if you are into that kind of thing. I don’t post much, mostly just notices to events and such that I’m involved in.
2024_0401: The morning after Easter and I’m left wondering what holiday display the delightful neighbor will broadcast next via their fancy outdoor LED light system.
2024_0402: It’s not just another Tuesday when it’s the first one in twelve weeks where duty doesn’t chase me out the door before dawn to go spend the day somewhere else.
2024_0403: Petrichor and Canada geese on the banks of the Missouri River.
2024_0404: Lovely birthday wishes in the form of a throaty multitudinous serenade in a coffee shop on the Hi-Line.
2024_0405: Hit the ground staggering in the aftermath.
2024_0406: Los Angeles is apocalyptic but the ocean is eternal.
2024_0407: A couple grand’s worth of effort to get ass-in-seat and the megastar calls in sick for work.
2024_0408: The one-two punch of celestial magnificence and a toe dipped in deep time assures me that, while we humans have most certainly doomed ourselves far earlier than we should have, and we are taking too many beloved relatives with us, the world is nonetheless going to be just fine.
2024_0409: Eavesdropping on the conversation across the aisle en route from Salt Lake to Missoula and I’m once again amazed at the authoritative confidence re: a niche segment of Montana history as discussed by a couple white guys neither of whom can be much more than two decades removed from greasing their diapers.
2024_0410: Not my neighborhood but it’s a bar with good burgers and a Mariners game on the television and just like that, everyone around me, at least for a few innings, is a friend.
2024_0411: There aren’t any NASCAR pit crews losing sleep over their mighty efforts but the pair of intrepid writer-types manage to swap out a failed battery in a hotel parking lot and still make their commitments reasonably close to on time.
2024_0412: The best meetings are conducted on a riverbank.
2024_0413: In no language does “Uncorrected Proof” suggest perfection.
2024_0414: More road work as dusk turns to dark, Thunderbirds in the distance, and no small hope that they might come take me with them over the next horizon.
2024_0415: People like to hate on starlings as an invasive species but watching eight or ten of them splashing around in a mud puddle makes me much happier than that same number of obnoxiously drunk white people lolling about peeing in a hot spring.
2024_0416: Late afternoon road work rewards me over the span of perhaps five minutes with a pair of noisy herons hustling by overhead, an immature bald eagle hunting the fields of the superfund site, and a lone, copper fox loping along in a similar pursuit.
2024_0417: A silent fist raised in solidarity to the other two invited Native folks who chose to blow off the event I showed up for.
2024_0418: For how many generations has choosing to be “close-mouthed” merely been a tactic to refrain from roaring?
2024_0419: I’d do it all over again provided I can get a couple days to rest in between.
2024_0420: Giiwedanang, the North Star, arrives on the back of Mashkode Bizhiki.
2024_0421: For all the daily bullshit there is plenty evidence of decent people in the world almost everywhere you look.
2024_0422: After surreptitiously selling a couple books at the library without proper authorization I recline later in my hotel room and wonder if I’ll be able to slip out of Bozeman in the morning before the “Where’s my two dollars!” gang can track me down.
2024_0423: The Shield Valley is spectacular but would look even better as one robe.
2024_0424: Tucked away in a place you must seek with intention, the magnificent land all but overwhelms the fading town of Highwood, who earns my adoration if only for being the lure to bring me into that region in the first place.
2024_0425: Four medicines in a trembling bag and my heart nearly bursts.
2024_0426: Quick breaths precede another submerge.
2024_0427: Four turkey vultures convene high over I90 eastbound to indicate they’ve returned again to add another layer of improvement to my community.
2024_0428: As long as hot hash browns are around cold gravy won’t spoil an otherwise delicious breakfast.
2024_0429: Ten minutes of interaction with a ginormous corporate entity raises my blood pressure so rapidly that I am grateful, for my own sake, that I’ve created a living where such encounters are rare.
2024_0430: The gift of a prayer delivered by nearly a score of Blackfeet children reciting in their first language.
Thank you! When my highly (colonized) education helps me make more than minimum wage I will become a paid member. Haha. I love your writing! And often your words feel like they came from my mouth. How many of us must feel this way. I feel violated andn a tad fearful for the world after corporate (or government) interactions. Had to share "for how many generations has choosing to be "close'mouthed" merely been a tactic to refrain from roaring.?" As a young Native in America, roaring sent me to jail and close-mouthed to addiction. Trying to find a happy medium in the ups and downs of it all.
"For all the daily bullshit, there is plenty evidence of decent people in the world almost everywhere you look." This is a part of the gift of life that we must not forget. Plus... With your monthly sentences, I always find one good laugh: "...white people peeing in a hot spring..." sent me all the way back to childhood, when I could always tell who was peeing in the pool by the thousand-yard-stare, with the eyes slightly rolled back in their sockets.