Pocket guide…
Any kind of fishing provides connection with the whole living world…
It gives you the opportunity of being totally immersed,
turning back into yourself in a good way:
a form of meditation,
and communion with levels of yourself that are deeper than the ordinary…
When I am fishing alone,
as I come out of it,
I find I can’t speak properly…
I can’t form words…
— Ted Hughes in Savage Gods Silver Ghosts by Ehor Boyanowsky
Litte Gem has been persistent,
in her demand,
for math lessons,
so last Sunday,
the three of us,
spent the afternoon,
on the concrete,
of Hastings Racetrack…
I don’t know,
exactly whom,
or what it was,
that pulled me there,
so strongly,
but staying home,
wasn’t an option,
and my assistants,
were game,
for this novel experience…
Starshine placed her first,
$2 Exactor Box,
on horses four,
and five,
and won…
She made one choice,
by listening,
to an eight year old boy,
with jockey sense,
and the second,
through gut instinct…
Three races later,
she was ahead,
dollar wise,
because she knew her limit,
and played within it…
The other evening,
Little Gem asked me,
What’s a lease???
in relation,
to a horse…
After I’d explained,
she said,
I don’t think,
I’d like to be,
in that situation…
Then I spoke,
of a complex memory,
in which,
due to circumstances,
beyond my control,
I’d been,
as a wife…
She wondered when,
and then figured it out,
all on her own…
I was thinking back,
to the beginning of last Summer,
and how I couldn’t see,
how things were ever,
going to get better,
for the Vancouver Canucks…
And as the weeks went by,
Hamhuis,
Malhotra,
and Torres,
were still merely,
question marks,
in an unanswered season…
Looking back,
on the President’s Trophy,
I couldn’t have seen,
what happened,
coming,
and looking forward,
gives new meaning,
to a Torresian split…
I’ve been asked,
by agent orange,
Are you now going to become THE fan of Phoenix???
The only thing I know,
for sure,
in relation,
to that particular inquiry,
is,
I’ve always been partial,
to Coyote,
and all of the things,
she says,
about stable management…
After her first horse ride,
on a Morgan mare,
what started as,
pounding hammers,
inside her head,
turned to a burning fever…
But by morning,
when it broke,
Little Gem woke to say,
Thank you so much,
for giving me the chance,
to learn to ride,
Part of you pours out of me...
Biker chic…
For some women,
that’s what the forest was for:
private discussions with men…
Litz assumed by his popularity with women that he must be attractive…
Molly was defying this expectation,
but he didn’t believe her…
Litz believed Molly wanted it,
but couldn’t admit it…
Molly wasn’t a frigid thing…
She bit her bottom lip,
very on purpose,
and batted her eyelashes…
And here was Molly with Litz in the woods,
on New Year’s Eve no less…
But with a kiss on his cheek,
she dipped away without so much as a wrinkle on her skirts…
— in The Man Game by Lee Henderson
Early this morning,
I woke up,
with a start,
from a dream,
where I was leading,
a bunch,
of unrestricted free agents,
through an obstacle course,
and a scavenger hunt,
as a prospective developments,
trainer,
for personal,
fitness…
At one point,
I stood in the shadows,
face-to-face,
with former Canuck,
Ryan Johnson…
He had a wad,
of cash,
from his defensive efforts,
in Chicago…
He said,
Take this,
it’s yours…
After showing him,
the sparkle,
of my engagement ring,
I accepted,
exactly half,
for the work I’d done…
And as we shook hands,
on a done deal,
the picture,
evaporated,
into thin air…
I have no idea,
what it means,
because this story,
like all of the others,
is still,
as we speak,
unfolding…
Last week,
I had a dream,
of rumours,
some people,
wanted to take me,
to Detroit,
for my hockey sense…
I didn’t want to go,
because I was worried,
that if I wasn’t at home,
when those who had been searching,
and waiting,
came for me,
they wouldn’t know,
where to find me,
and they’d incorrectly believe that,
I never really wanted them…
So I told the rumours,
to get out of my house,
pronto…
A lot of people complain,
about the lack of attention,
and service available,
at THE Home Depot…
My experience,
has always been different,
because one gets,
what one puts,
out there…
Yesterday,
when I was working through,
of necessary supplies,
for repairs,
and improvements,
help was coming,
from so many directions,
that I almost,
didn’t know,
what to do with it all…
So I took,
one step at a time,
and by the end of the day,
everything fell,
into place…
The air is cool today,
and a certain #13,
has been signed
elsewhere…
So even though,
this is all,
the more reason,
to visit the desert,
in the middle of winter,
I had a little,
boo boo kitty,
then sent out a message,
about toughness,
and not backing down,
from your self-worth,
because when,
it’s all said and done,
no matter,
how hard they try,
nobody,
can ever,
take that away,
from you…
Through a process,
of paperwork,
I was recently asked,
What is your current occupation???
and for the first time,
I didn’t hesitate,
and felt completely comfortable,
saying,
I AM,
SELF-employed…
We ALL want something beautiful...
Tee party…
Hearing is the paramount sense:
the hiss of flylines,
the violent splash of rainbows savaging the fly,
the angry scream of the reel,
as a muscular Kamloops trout motors towards the bullrushes…
Nighttime provides a cloak of anonymity…
Revelations emerge that would not be offered,
in the glare,
of the afternoon…
— SAVAGE GODS AND SILVER GHOSTS by Ehor Boyanowsky
I recently remember,
using both terms loosely,
a married man,
as a way of flushing out,
my taste,
telling me,
how,
seeing Michelle Pfeiffer,
in a cat suit,
really tilted,
his rod…
I didn’t bite,
and kept my,
personal preferences,
about a five o’clock shadow,
standing riverside,
in surf shorts,
all to myself,
because it was none,
of his GD business…
What I did offer,
for him to chew on,
in response to his baiting,
was the statement,
that I seriously doubted,
if he were presented,
with the particular opportunity,
he infantilized over,
he would have a clue,
what to do with it…
If you spend,
your whole life,
playing out,
the winning,
of a Stanley Cup,
and dragging it through,
a pub crawl,
is the very best,
you can come up with,
as a way to celebrate,
your invitation,
to enter the temple,
of holy hockey,
it’s a sure sign to me,
that you’ve lost,
your clutch…
This morning,
over buttermilk pancakes,
I speculated,
that the V-Canucks,
as I now know them,
wouldn’t be caught dead,
carting,
the sacred vessel,
to a men’s club,
for a pole dance,
and what’s more…
Starshine chastised me,
from the dining room table,
by saying,
Mama,
you don’t really know those players,
and neither do I,
but I can see a lot of them,
thinking it’s perfectly fine,
to get hammered,
in the presence,
of everything,
they’ve ever wanted,
because they don’t know,
Little Gem said,
Could we stop talking about this please???
I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast…
And then as she brushed her hair,
before the school bus arrived,
she said,
I’m building a new hot tub,
because the first one failed…
Since visualizing,
is the standard,
in sports,
I’m working on a new list,
and first things first,
I see myself,
hanging from a helicopter,
on a giant ribbon,
wearing my lingerie hockey,
uniform,
embracing,
the most prized possession,
of the VHL,
swinging along Burrard Inlet,
over Indian Arm,
into the Upper Pitt valley,
like a Dolly Varden,
in full costume…
There’s a little less,
than twelve months,
to prepare Mars,
for the epic proportions,
of a season finale,
that is worthy,
of all of the effort,
about to be,
put forth…
Yes,
some claim,
hockey runs riots,
but the binary,
of that destructive force,
is the counter creativity,
it inspires,
and of that,
there is no distance…
On such matters,
I can only,
speak for myself,
by being,
the very fish,
I want to see,
in the world…
Last night,
like we do every night,
before going to bed,
Little Gem,
and I spent some time,
on equine now,
searching for horses…
When I found,
an 18 hh Shire,
from Alberta,
named Gretzky,
Little Gem said,
It’s in the spirit of Wayne,
that EVERYTHING,
is going,
to work out…
To see what I'm all about... (photo: Starshine)
Canuck'd 