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the snowmen

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2013.01.06

Wow, just like that* we're back in Toronto. Kenny and I shook off the hideous jet lag and went out to make snow men. He made one, I made five, and about 30% of the back yard was free of the 10cm of snow that had been there. It was perfect snow for making snow men.

Mum met us at the airport yesterday and even made dinner. Without that assistance I suspect we'd still be blundering around the airport trying to get home.

*By which I mean, "after 19 hours of travel".

rand()m quote

Immature poets imitate mature poets steal bad poets deface what they take and good poets make it into something better or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique utterly different than that from which it is torn the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion. A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time or alien in language or diverse in interest.

—T.S. Eliot