June 12th, 2009
A Novel Gift
Stuart and I both like the song “Daughter”, but the lyric “everything she owns, I bought her” doesn’t really apply to our situation. It’s more like, “That’s our daughter in the water, everything she owns was a gift from our extraordinarily generous friends and family.” She gets packages in the post near daily, always full of delightful things. We feel so lucky and appreciative of these gifts, and all the thoughts and good wishes we’ve received. Harriet lacks for nothing, no thanks to us really. Our freezer is also similarly stocked.
But one gift does stand out a bit. In addition to adorable summer outfits, Harriet’s Auntie Jennie also gave us a novel. Or, gave me a novel. It was Catherine O’Flynn’s novel What Was Lost, which I’ve wanted to read for ages. And this novel gift really was particularly novel, because nobody ever gives me books. Oh, as I’ve said, people give me lots of things, but I’ve read so many books already and my tastes are quite defined that friends are more inclined to give me other things. So that rarely do I ever receive a book as a surprise, let alone a book I’ve been dying to read anyway. I imagine I’m not the only bookish sort who suffers from this plight. Oh, the tortured problems of the middle class…
June 6th, 2009
Clearest, starkest brilliance
“Motherhood is a storm, a seizure: It is like weather. Nights of high wind followed by calm mornings of dense fog or brilliant sunshine that gives way to tropical rain, or blinding snow. Jane Louise and Edie found themselves swept away, cast ashore, washed overboard. It was hard to keep anything straight. The days seemed to congeal like rubber cement, although moments stood out in clearest, starkest brilliance. You might string those together on the charm bracelet of your memory if you could keep your eyes open long enough to remember anything.” –Laurie Colwin, from A Big Storm Knocked It Over
That I’ve read an entire book over the past twelve days means that all is not lost. And indeed, there have been numerous “moments standing out in clearest, starkest brilliance,” though these don’t include the hours we spent in the Sick Kids Emergency when Harriet when just four days old (she was fine, thank goodness, but that experience was like staring straight into hell), her much too-much weight loss that has had both of us struggling to make up for it ever since, that I may have cried as much as she has, and the overwhelming dread at the thought of her Daddy returning to work on Monday. But we’ve enjoyed taking her out for her first walks in her carrier, trying to figure out what she likes (not much, but we suspect being in her carrier is a comfort), getting massages from Daddy, midwife visits where she’s gained an ounce every day, the sun shining through the windows, all the support we’ve had from family, friends and our most excellent neighbours, and that she’s received so good wishes from all over the world. Harriet has also received post every day, though she’s not yet old enough to realize how exciting that is. We’ve also been fortunate that I’ve come through my surgery so well and easily. My crush on the surgeon went into high gear in the days after her birth (which, in spite of the operating room, was as gorgeous as any birth could be, and I don’t feel I’ve missed anything) because he looked like Paul Simon circa 1970s, and because of what a good job he’d done, and what a beautiful baby he’d delivered (though about three nights ago at three o’clock in the morn, I was sorely tempted to go firebomb his house). It’s been a very difficult time for all of us this past while– I’ve never been much inclined to work hard at things I’m not loving, and this isn’t a job I can pass along to anybody else. Though I’m finding, ever-increasingly, those moments standing out in clearest, starkest brilliance when I don’t want to.
March 26th, 2009
This morning’s sweet delight
Oh, I know I’ve left all two of my avid readers hanging. I know you’ve both been asking, “What HAS Kerry received in the post of late?” Well, I can tell you: not much. Recent haulage has been pathetic, really. Until this morning’s sweet delight. Descant 144. An “Irish Writers” postcard sent from my best friend Britt, who is currently back in the Old Country. A gorgeous thank-you note from our friend Carolyn, that made me cry. And another postcard from my fabulous sister, who saw fit to think of me on her recent sojourn to sunny Mexico. My credit card statement was not as fun as the rest of the pile, but alas. I love the idea of these little items being placed into mailboxes all over the world, specially aimed right to my doorstep.
March 18th, 2009
The post in literature
Though I make no bones about literature in the post being my very favourite thing, a close second has to be the post in literature. Two such highlights lately (and by UofT creative writing grads) being Laura Boudreau’s story “Strange Pilgrims” in The New Quarterly 109 (out now), and Naya’s brilliant post “Stamping and Stomping”. Clearly, clearly, after my heart.
February 3rd, 2009
The latest postal haul
I arrived home today to a mailbox overflowing with literary goodness. The latest issue of The New Quarterly, a brand new Canadian Notes and Queries, as well as The Divided Heart: Art and Motherhood by Rachel Power, which should still have been en-route from Australia by sea, but I suspect someone put it on an airplane by mistake– what a treat.
January 26th, 2009
Amazingly above-average
Today’s postal haul wasn’t huge, but was mostly amazingly above-average (or at least way not just bills and flyers). The Good: two letters, one from the Governor General and the other from The South Pole. The Bad: another issue of magazine whose subscription I’m definitely not renewing because, once again, upon perusing table of contents, I see the editors have forgotten that women can write.
December 23rd, 2008
Today’s things to do list
- check the post
- go swimming
- pick up a book at the library
- pick up a parcel at the post office
- bake three apple pies
- write, read and knit
- be cooked my favourite dinner
- look into becoming a lady of leisure
December 16th, 2008
Postal Motherlode
Today we arrived home to a bundle on the doorstep– ten (10!) Christmas cards, all for us. It was as good as Christmas morning, really, and we opened them one-by-one, delighting. And then had to add a second string to our fireplace display, which is quite remarkable for one day’s pickings. Oh, for the love of December and perpetual post.
We are also happy this year to have a fireplace at all, though of course hanging our stockings on the bookcase was never a bad thing, but there is a certain authenticity here at the new house, even if the fireplace is a wee bit bricked up and a storage space for magazines. We trust Santa will find his way…
September 18th, 2008
Like a treasure
“I receive remarkable letters. They are opened for me, unfolded and spread out before my eyes, in a daily ritual that gives the arrival of the post the character of a hushed and holy ceremony. I carefully read each letter myself. Some of them are serious in tone, invoking the supremacy of the soul, the mystery of every existence… Other letters simply relate the small events that punctuate the passage of time: roses picked at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a children crying himself to sleep. Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of happiness, move me more than all the rest. A couple of lines or eight pages, a Middle Eastern stamp or a suburban postmark… I hoard all these letters like a treasure. One day I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship./ It will keep the vultures at bay.” –Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (trans. Jeremy Leggatt).
