What a farewell gift from the weather gods.

Although I got lots of writing done at the writers and artists’ colony this year, I also enjoyed the reading time. I spent my evenings with Edward Hirsch, browsing his Poet’s Choice, which led me down interesting paths — including one that led to Yusuf Komunyakaa, whose name I’m sure had not crossed my radar (though Brenda tells me she also came across him recently and was impressed).

I brought a chapbook called When Now Is Not Now, produced by The Poetry Trust for Alastair Reid‘s 2006 appearance at the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival, where he was one of my clear favourites, and after re-reading those poems still is.

For criticism and theory, I brought Annie Finch, The Body of Poetry, which had a fabulous piece in it about how the DWM canon came to be and what to do if you don’t like it. And some welcome introduction to the work of Sara Teasdale, which delighted me.

Other books I’ve read over the past couple of weeks include Jane Hirschfield‘s After; Vona Groarke‘s Shale, Paul Farley‘s Tramp In Flames, the 2007 Forward Prize Anthology, Helena McEwan’s Ghost Girl, Medbh McGuckian‘s The Currach Requires No Harbours, Mimi Khalvati’s The Meanest Flower, and Naomi Guttman’s Wet Apples, White Blood.

So here we are, having had a fabulous if freezing view of the lunar eclipse; last night having seen some absolutely gorgeous layered photographic slides from Regina’s own Cherie Westmoreland, and had our farewell reading. It’s time to pack up.

So long to Benedict…

And to these newcomers, who were born out in a -25c field and luckily spotted and brought inside for a little time under the heatlamp…

And today, all the colonists fly away home.

I went round to the sheep barn again yesterday, braving the face-freezing weather for a glimpse of the two latest arrivals, born on Sunday.

I had apparently timed my visit to nap time. Tipsy was there with her colourful offspring.

And this pair were watching the door.

In other news… Last night I made a batch of Fanny Bay smoked oyster pate (my changes: I used 2 tins of Fanny Bay smoked oysters instead of 1; green onion instead of white; and added a tablespoon of plain yogurt and a good squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a pinch of minced lemon rind) which swiftly vanished into the colony’s creativity machine.

A last swing round the freezing streets of Humboldt yielded an “Italian-inspired” yogurt maker, currently in experimental use (though Carla tells us she makes her yogurt in a much simpler way: using a mason jar, wrapped in a towel and set on the hot water tank overnight). After a crippling second night of badminton I am moving slowly but making what I can of my final two days and looking forward to our finale reading and studio tour tomorrow night.

What’s behind the blue door?

The chickadees have long been friendly,

but this is the first year I’ve had nuthatches in hand.

This little white lamb is a charmer – always curious and full of beans…

..who’s mama’s favourite little mountain goat?

And I hate to say it, but the alpaca babe (Benedict, of course) has a funny face.