Beaver Guff

Not in the mood for any beaver guff. 

 by Maryanna Gabriel 

Meanwhile, back at the refrigerator fridge filled with cheesecake, I find it fortunate they are closed due to holidays. One cannot always count on self control given I pass by every morning. The mornings are chillier with swimming at the lake and I love to go early before most are up. Well, the beaver was up. 

None of this splashing about like many. I glide as quiet as can be. Glide and watch. This morning a palm frond went sailing across the water forever like a freshwater fin. I realized the beaver had just raided someone's Hosta garden planted close to the water's edge.

Then I heard a crashing. The noise was too near the lake to be deer.

I was right. With a splash, slippery dark forms slid into the lake and noticing me, glided close. Otters? No, wait a minute. Tiny rat-like heads. Were they mink? They circled underwater. I could see the bubbles rise and then I stopped looking across the surface and down to my toes and began to tread watchfully. Suddenly, I was concerned. Do mink bite? They were right under me. I held steady. They passed and emerged on the far shore next to the Hostas only to make made high-pitched squealing noises. It was a mother with her young. She was really hissing and carrying on and they were definitely mink.

The next thing I knew, a head made its way straight towards me. A bigger head. It was the beaver, and he was in full-blown huffing and puffing mode and not in the mood for any trouble. I realized he had just chased off the mink (his lodge is nearby). He was full of adrenalin and up for a fight. Just in case, I was going to give him any beaver guff, I received three loud tail slaps. Then off he charged. Clearly, I was not being invited back to the lodge for tea and open-faced Hosta sandwiches. Look, I can take a hint. 

Thus ends the tail. Er, tale. 

A Review With Juice

 by Maryanna Gabriel


One day, not too long ago and while worrying about bears gnawing upon my window, in an awkward moment I splashed orange juice hither and yon. My gosh.

I had a houseguest, so I tried to appear nonchalant and quickly mopped up. One of my literary magazines was soaked, and without hesitation I lobbed it into recycling.

Not the end of the story. 

Recently, I did a random search, and to my astonishment, I discovered I had a book review. Imagine. It slowly dawned the review was in the tossed magazine. Wow. And here I was in transit from the Kootenays. How nail-biting. Was the review a good one?

How is an author to sleep? 

I finally picked up the reordered copy at my new post box. The review was by New York teacher and writer Stacey Engels. I guess if you call being compared to Emily Carr, "almost verbatim Carr", a good review, then it sure was (Emily was a writer as well as an artist).

 And probably a better manager with her juice. Then gain, now that I think about it, perhaps not. 

The Malahat Review (University of Victoria) Issue 223 

Walking The Camino: On Earth As It Is - Finalist Book Contest

 By Maryanna Gabriel 

FINALIST
Wahoo!!!! Finalist (of four) Nonfiction Category
Sunshine Coast Writer's and Editors Society (SCWES)
Book Contest BC Authors
Walking The Camino: On Earth As It Is from Pottersfield Press 

Today was not a good day to not have internet so I made my way to the library. Pretty stoked. 

Writing Workshop With Kevin Chong

Dawn on Denman Island. 

By Maryanna Gabriel 


Imagine. Daisies. Hammock. Hot tub. Roses dropping petals from overhead as though I were a bride. Rose petals strewn across the patio and tracked across the carpet. An orange cat visits for an affectionate pat. All on peaceful Denman Island. Oyster capital. And yes, I had those too. 

It was my birthday present to myself.

This time of year, Denman is a writers mecca with workshops, presentations, speakers, and readings as they hold their annual literary festival. Some teachers just hit the mark at the right time and Kevin Chong is that kind of teacher for me. He has published a few books and is even a Giller Prize Finalist which is prestigious. This is all to say he knows his stuff and I have been needing encouragement. This is the reason for attending. Synergy. Love being with writers and talking shop. Next best thing to reading. 

Early morning writing at the local cafe next to a renouned writer doing same  -  the Earth Club Factory, Denman Island.

  

Sturmfrei

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Every morning at first light, I swim with a beaver. A new routine. He slaps his tail and circles away while I paddle along and marvel at being on an island where bears are not an issue. 

Thank goodness for

Sheer heaven. Cheesecake Fridge

that.

On the difficult side, in order to do this, I have to walk by a fridge on the road that is filled with cheesecake. Sound rather like a version of heaven, doesn't it? But I'm no fibber. 

Sturmfrei is a splendid German word, which means doing what one wants. As I say it, I think of the song, Born Free and think of twirling. Twirling is a word that means what it sounds (onomatopoeia, wow, that's two big words in one paragraph). It feels wonderful to be by the ocean again, and I am doing what I want as I visit old haunts.