I wish I could say my day was meaningful and I contributed to the world in some serious way, but I was utterly frivolous. I stumbled out of yesterday’s hibernation and into the salon of glamorous Manon down at the Alexis Nihon Plaza and she gave me this periwinkle pedicure. I also bought these flip flops and some pretty new clothes, all in the periwinkle family. Then I attempted to buy a small trampoline, but the woman in front of me talked me out of it.
I’ve thought a small trampoline might be fun ever since I saw one in the apartment of Dear One’s Cousin Maria. I never saw Maria actually jump on it, but I have imagined it many times, and there is always a smile on her face. Maria is very big and the trampoline is very small. That appeals to me somehow.
The stranger who talked me out of it gave her own trampoline away this morning. She was freshly out of love with her trampoline. “The trampoline,” she said, “yes, you will enjoy it for exactly one week. And then you will kick it in the corner and it will become unbelievably dusty.” She couldn’t have said anything that would drive me away from that trampoline faster.
Her husband died two years ago and she bought $50,000 worth of new clothes. What was in her shopping cart? Tostitos. For her son. You put chili on them, she said, and you call it supper.
that was from me. i didn't mean for this comment to be anonymous.
i am a foot looker and always on the look out for the longer middle toe that i have heard of but never seen, even here in barefoot land.
and when i viewed your blog yesterday there it was like a rare bird.
specializes in foot care
On March 3rd, 2011 02:43 am (UTC), (Anonymous) commented:
Your book has shaken my confidence in the Giller Prize, for Annabel should have definitely won it. (I bought The Sentimentalists and was so bored I stopped halfway through.) I can hardly put your book down. It is written in a kind of poetry, spiralling deep in little-known luminescences of human experience. How did you come to such knowing about the depth of wordless experience, and found the words to narrate them wso, drawing in the essence of human souls? Your characters - all of them (including Labrador itself) - will live in me as long as my own self now.
I grew up in St. John's...am sixty-three years old, and living in Ontario only eighteen years. Brenda Peddigrew
Thank you for "spiralling deep in little-known luminescences of human experience". I think that is my favourite reader response ever. As for coming to know wordless experience, I think we all know it... putting it into words is a writer's real goal. I'm so glad you think I managed to approach this in "Annabel". So kind of you to take the time to read the book so sympathetically, and to tell me how you feel about it.