this was actually written for lovely angela rawlings for her nether :: a review dialogue (http://www.commutiny.net/her/), after she sent out a call to those of us who post, but it hasn't been working lately. after weeks of holding on to it, i decided to post it here. rob

how i spent my summer vacation, 2004

As far as literature goes (& a bunch of other things), Ottawa gets all quiet in the summer. Hardly anyone is around so there aren’t as many readings happening. Still, I don’t really take "vacations" as such, but I do spend extra time with my lovely daughter, Kate (now 13 ½), during the summer, & the enforced break from work I think is a good thing for my mental health. As far as timeline, I’ll go from what the kids consider summers – from June to the end of August.

At the beginning, still recovering from almost two months of touring for my what’s left collection (Talonbooks), came home to prepare for the ottawa small press book fair in mid-June. From then on, its all been quiet-like. Except, of course, for the fact that, as soon as the last droplet of snow melts in the capital, heavy construction begins almost immediately. Various streets are torn up, & buildings razed while other buildings rise. The two empty lots next door to my building, signs with threats of eventual condos. Down the hill, the Plant Bath building completely rebuilt after years of being closed. All the little streets around my neighbourhood pub, just a half block away from my little apartment.

The TREE Reading Series does continue, though, every 2nd & 4th Tuesday of every month. Readers during the summer have included Michelle Desberats, finally reading from new work, since her first collection, Last Child to Come Inside (1998) & her inclusion in Groundswell: best of above/ground press, 1993-2003 (2003); and Peter Van Toorn. Van Toorn read from the new edition of his 1983 collection Mountain Tea, reissued by Vehicule Press in February of this year. Van Toorn is absolutely brilliant, but ranted mostly on various topics, including Canadian Prime Ministers, how writing will destroy you, women, money & a bunch of other things, & in the hour he had the stage, he only read a couple of poems. An event unlike any other.

Helped jwcurry move books to his new apartment about four buildings west of where he used to live, right above me. Wondered why there weren’t any literary publishers in Ottawa interested in publishing locals. Wondered what I could do to change something like that. Wondered why no one had commented on my novel yet, the one I sent out in April. Wondered if there was ever a reason to send anything out again. Read a lot of fiction, including Cordelia Strube & Raymond Chandler. Wondered how funny it would be to drink gin & tonics from a glass tumbler with the Kool-Aid logo on it. Argued with my daughter about _______ (insert anything). Complained.

Spent more than a week at my parents farm in Glengarry County, my lovely daughter & I. Found out that she’s almost unbeatable at crazy eights. (Now if we could only turn that into some sort of income.) Made pies from the wild rhubarb patch behind my parents’ house. Got to spend time with my relatively new niece, Emma, born December 23rd. Lost my watch in the rhubarb patch (I have yet to get it back). Worked on genealogy. Drove around the county with Kate taking pictures of various buildings & other sites. Found out Kate & her mother both hate rhubarb. (So does Andy Weaver. As he wrote in an email, "I would rather lick my own armpit.")Purchased raspberry wine from a winery in Monkland. Spent a morning with Henry Beissel. Listened.

Had lots of drinks with people I hadn’t seen since (mostly) before my spring tour. Exwife, exwife, exwife. Various friends, including Clare Latremouille, Anita Dolman, James Moran, Shane Rhodes, Stephen Brockwell, Jennifer Mulligan, Sean Wilson & Kira Harris (on her birthday), etcetera. Jordan Fry & his lovely friend Theresa visited from Niagara Falls. Waited for a visit from Bev Daurio that didn’t happen (yet). An almost-visit from Ken Norris, between Montreal-Toronto stints, up from where he teaches at the University of Maine, Orono. A visit with Kate to Stephanie Bolster & Patrick Leroux in Pointe-Claire. Exploring the biodome. A late night game of Risk.

Worked on reviews, fiction, poems, essays, chapbooks. Finished up work on new & selected William Hawkins book. Thought a lot about John Newlove & Andrew Suknaski. Thoroughly enjoyed multiple Barry McKinnon poems. Read a million comic books, watched almost every new movie going with my lovely daughter. Worried about money (the lack thereof). Drank. Slept. Wondered why I don’t get as much mail as I send.

Decided I should spend more time reading Phil Hall. Decided I should write more reviews for my little blog. Wondered if I should do readings for the new book coming out in September. Wondered where. Wondered how I could afford to live. Wondered if I was doing enough. Prepared to teach another group of poetry workshops. Rediscovered whiskey. Rediscovered why I shouldn’t drink it. Spent time scheming. Read my horoscope.

Mostly my summers are spent doing versions of the same things I do during the rest of the year. (I don’t usually do readings or any travel involving literary, keeping myself open for the sake of the child, who preferred to spend her days quietly & happily alone in her house, reading or on the phone with her friends.) Sit at my little desk every morning & worry the rest of my day through growing mounds of paper. Wait for the mailman to arrive (he is never fast enough, especially now that he seems to come at seemingly random points during the day, if at all).

Wondered what she was doing, there. Wondered if I would ever hear from her again.