This is the time of the year we are out and about searching for wildflowers. This season we have stayed close to home focussed on updating photographs of Calgary’s Fish Creek Provincial Park treasures. My new novel Uncharted is with publisher WestBow Press and I predict it will be on the market in August. A key part of the story hinges on the wildflowers that can be found in this amazing urban park. I’m assembling a pictorial companion for the novel featuring the flowers mentioned in the story. There’s a trick to finding some of the flowers. Simple? You need someone along who can see them and Lois is an expert. I’m not sure how she does it. Must be something to do with the eye of an artist and colour. “Just look for a change in colour and you’ll see them.” Ok, but sorry does not work for me.
Take a look at this picture.
In here is a pale coralroot, just off the pathway between Shannon Terrace at the west end of the park and Bebo Grove (24th Street SW). Can you see it?
There’s a dark patch in the centre of the picture. Then to left of this there’s a slight yellow change of colour. It’s tiny at about 7 o’clock.
Ya gotta love these bookend weeks especially like the one we’ve just experienced. It’s been a week that we had no idea how it was going to turn out.
The week began last Sunday when we got the call around noon that our eldest granddaughter was on her way to the hospital to deliver her first child. Around 6pm our daughter Rachel called to say that Veronica and Ray were the proud parents of a healthy boy. For us, wee George is great grandson number two, just six months after our first. We got to visit him a few hours after he got home on Tuesday.
Great gramma Lois with George Philip Fukuda, the latest addition to our ever expanding family.
The next event for me was the delivery by Artist Lois of a reference map for a new novel I’ve created. Brandon’s Bicycle is now in its second draft and I was very fortunate to have Lois work with my squiggles and create a map of the Hamlet of Outside (you’ll have to stay tuned on that story till at least late summer).
The next highlight came Thursday when my editor returned the manuscript for Uncharted, my second novel now just weeks away from being in the publisher’s hands.
Friday was the climax of the week when Lois and I celebrated our 55th wedding anniversary. We reckon that’s pretty darn cool.
The right hand bookend is Sunday to celebrate the 19th birthday of grand daughter Beth.
I’m sure that somewhere deep inside, my DNA will show two uninspiring attributes that might confound the people who dig into these sorts of things, you know, examine what makes a person tick. I wonder if that double helix would show hidden codes for procrastination and vacillation. I look at the blood that seeps out of a deep scratch on my hand: the procrastinator says it will stop oozing soon; the vacillator says should I put a band aid on that, or what about clean it first and coat it with an antiseptic cream.
So here I am in 2016. Six weeks have passed. I’m waiting, thinking about restarting work on my new novel, which incidentally is 50,000 words written and needs a thorough rewrite to flesh out the good bits and abandon the not-so-good bits.
Where the P and the V of my DNA fit into this is simple. Do I wait for the copy-edit of my work-in-progress Uncharted to return from my editor and get that out of the way so to speak, or do I get back to my garden scriptorium and do the work Brandon’s Bicycle is crying out for.
See what I mean.
Then there’s the self-made promise to get on with the job of updating a website and making it jolly-well interesting. It’s about time I talked about the person who has upgraded the site and made it look that much better.
So here goes. This is a start. The sun shines here in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. It is mid February and I’m out in the garden scriptorium.