Saturday in CinCity

With kids in school the month of May becomes hectic with end of year details and deadlines. And exams. And dance productions. So, while it is a glorious day(and I do not use that word lightly, although I am a bit loose with "fabulous")with sun and soft breezes and no humidity, HoneyHaired and I will be inside a studio or at the dining room table with papers galore. She'll be the one sticking her head out the car window like a young Golden Retriever while we drive up and down Central Parkway. I will vigorously attempt to restrain myself.

Her shows are next Friday and Saturday after a week of exams, fittings and rehearsals. I have a gazillion page evaluation to be filled out by this Sunday which is difficult to start for many reasons, one being "clustershag" is not BigFatTeaching Hospital approved terminology. Such is life.

I'd like to think that you all are hiking around some beautiful nature trail enjoying this May Day, but I suspect many of you are in exactly the same boat as me. Enjoy...

Crossing the Loch

by Kathleen Jamie

Remember how we rowed toward the cottage
on the sickle-shaped bay,
that one night after the pub
loosed us through its swinging doors
and we pushed across the shingle
till water lipped the sides
as though the loch mouthed 'boat'?

I forgot who rowed. Our jokes hushed.
The oars' splash, creak, and the spill
of the loch reached long into the night.
Out in the race I was scared:
the cold shawl of breeze,
and hunched hills; what the water held
of deadheads, ticking nuclear hulls.

Who rowed, and who kept their peace?
Who hauled salt-air and stars
deep into their lungs, were not reassured;
and who first noticed the loch's
phosphorescence, so, like a twittering nest
washed from the rushes, an astonished
small boat of saints, we watched water shine
on our fingers and oars,
the magic dart of our bow wave?
It was surely foolhardy, such a broad loch, a tide,
but we live—and even have children
to women and men we had yet to meet
that night we set out, calling our own
the sky and salt-water, wounded hills
dark-starred by blaeberries, the glimmering anklets
we wore in the shallows
as we shipped oars and jumped,
to draw the boat safe, high at the cottage shore.

please note: photo by Arjun Gobinath


  1. I am supposed to be bookkeeping, reconciling bank accounts etc. that I did not complete (or really start) at work yesterday. I detoured to walk by the Bay on my way in; cloudy sky, not the usual number of birds; overgrown trails due to budget cuts. Sigh. Life is not perfect but we'll see if a dose of Russell Crowe as Robin Hood can improve things this evening. Still not really "into" the accounting job. You sound way more productive than I.

  2. nothing....simply nothing that I have to do....smilesl

  3. Always a crazy time of year... staying sane becomes a challenge... But reading beautiful poetry helps. Something mysterious and wonderful about being on the water at night... reminds me of nights spent trespassing in the summer to go swimming in a private lake, it was heaven out there in the cool water on a hot night, with only the fireflies for company... and the knowledge we were doing something wrong, though it felt so right...

  4. Dance production, did you say? Magic. I'm not sure I want to take that track with my 5yo - who'd love it (might try a few classes, every mother wants a ballerina daughter at some stage) but its a long haul with transport to lessons, costumes, shows and sore feet. You survived! Let us know how it goes. xx

  5. Graduation, awards dinners, finals, you said it all!

    I, however, have been on my nature walk today. I ignored the dirty dishes and the biting mosquitos, while forgetting how to spell.

    You will be so proud, it will all be worth it.

  6. We drove to Ripley, Ohio today & toured the Parker & Rankin houses. You're right - it was a GLORIOUS day! We're having our dose of Doctor Who before bed now...


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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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