First Time Being Published - Part II

 Here's a preview of Xavier's selected work.

 

The Taint

 

Foratarof got out of bed like every other day. He went outside and saw it, the Taint.  The Taint is an infection that infects everything it touches: everything. Foratarof ran to the town hall to sound the alarm but it was too late. The monsters had arrived. They were killing everyone in sight. He saw people he had known his whole life die before his eyes. They were all gone. There was no hope, until he saw it. The egg. He could be one. A dragon-rider. He ran like lightning. He knew if he could get there fast, he might succeed in getting the egg to hatch. He threw out his mind. It did not take long to find the dragon’s mind; it was bright and shining like the sun. He tried to contact it, but its mental barriers were too strong. He ran even faster.  When he reached the egg, he touched it and it  exploded with a shower of colour. And there it was, his dragon. It was a cyan dragon. Its scales were pointed and sharp. Its claws were black daggers, capable of piercing the strongest of armour. He knew that he should run from the Taint, but the dragon’s beauty was overwhelming. Then the dragon contacted him.  His voice was deep and powerful as he said, “Come, let us slay these monsters.” He wanted to refuse but he could not, he was too overwhelmed to say no. So he ran towards the city with his magnificent blue dragon, Adodyppalsyppah.

Ten years later.

 

As the sun went up the Silverwood Tree died. Omega knew then and there his death was near. The Silverwood Tree, their only protection, was gone and he knew whose fault it was. The king. The king was mad, he and his dragon. They had set fire to the tree. They would all die. He climbed to the top of his house and saw that there was a red glow coming from the outer wall of the town. It was a silly thought, but if it was an egg he could kill the king…

Xavier Brooks (age 12)

Symmes Junior High School

Gatineau, QC

First Time Being Published -- Young Writers of Canada -- Part I

Last year Xavier submitted a piece of writing to a annual anthology published by the Poetry Institute of Canada (based out of Victoria) to showcase Canada's young writers.  His piece was selected for publication. 

Today we received the proof sheet for review.  It is so exciting (well, at least for him mom).

 

 

http://youngwritersofcanada.ca/

 



E=mc2

Richard,


I saw this book at the Okanagan College yesterday.

Remember when we used the 2427 driveway as a chalk board and I asked you to explain E=mc2 to me?

I loved that day in the backyard with you, your kids, and the peeing tree covered in wet tissues from the experiments Amir and Reza did with me and Michael.

I am trying to send you a photo of that day because the images are so vivid in my mind .... but perhaps I never took any. So instead I looked on my phone for a picture of you and Michael and Alice without any limbs moving -- that was equally hard to find. It perhaps lends new meaning to E=mc2.

E = parents energy at the end of the day.
M = combined weight of children
C = children's combined speed

Truly one of the profound mysteries of the universe.

Love,

Bonnie

News on Arta and Kelvin (Arta not yet ready for visitors)

Updates from Calgary

Girl Party night before surgery

Arta has a new right hip. Yea!  

Given the length of time it took to diagnose the specific issue (which has meant some high doses of morphine), and the fracturing of her femur during the surgery, the recovery is going to take a bit longer than expected.  She will require medical oversight, and will be spending the next while in the Sarcee Rehabilitation Facility.  

Backyard planning meeting pre-surgery

Arta knows her friends and loved ones will want to visit, but she has asked that visitors please wait to visit until she can enjoy them. (translation:  please do not come to visit her). 

She has a very tight regime for recovery (which includes lots of physio, icing, elevation, and rest).  She wants people to know that her kids are helping, and that takes as much energy as she has available.  :-)   Both Bonnie and Mary have been here helping out. Doral is currently down from Edmonton, and Rebecca has taken a leave from her job in Victoria.  It is a transition period where Arta’s days are literally filled with taking care of herself, giving input to the siblings for the care of our father, and providing direction to Miranda and Richard as they work to put in place crucial renovations to her space at home in a short window of time.

A brief facetime conversation to see Baby Betty

Arta loves her friends and family.  She can read email (and while her access is not frequent, she can check her email every other day).  She loves to hear news, so she would definitely welcome emails.  She knows you all love her.  She knows you all would do anything you could for her.  What she is needing right now is a concentrated period of quiet focus without visitors.

Some people can relax when visitors come. Arta is the kind of person who will not be able to relax.  She will be working hard to listen to her visitors, to hear how the visitor is doing, and will forget to take care of her own needs in those minutes, or hours of being visited.  Knowing her, we are guessing that will make sense to you.   

Kelvin and Rebecca Sarcee selfie!

Kelvin is also at the Sarcee Rehabilitation Facility (the arrangement was that he would be there on respite during Arta's recovery period).  The current plan is for him to next move to a Supported Living Facility, and we are waiting further news on that front.  

Kelvin does love to hear news of people (though he too points out that the days here are so full that it is a real challenge when visitors come).  If you want to visit, just give him a call first to let him know you are coming.  You can call him at Sarcee.  Just say you are looking for Kelvin Johnson, in the Left Cluster (the phone number there is:  403-686-8100)   He also has a cell phone (403-971-3393).  He loves phone calls, and letters!  (chocolates and bonbons are also welcome...)

The Treleavens (and baby Betty) visit Arta

The Treleavens loaned me their hospital bed.

I put it into use right away.

I learned how to lift my leg onto it, slide in a 45 degree position across the sheets and find a comfortable position.

I was s so happy when the Treleavens showed up for a  surprise visit yesterday and sweet baby Betty happened to be visiting from next door at thte same time.

We took some pictures to mark the occasion.  A time to remember.

Today I learned the time of my arthoplasty operation.

So I am on my way to South Campus tomorrow for three days in the hospital and then, hopefully off to rehabilitation for a yet to be determined amount of time.

No more blogging from me for a few months, thoughI will continue to write posts in my heart.

 

I will be coming home with a brand new artificial hip,and with the power to hold that little baby Betty for longer periods of time than I can hold her now.

 Arta

Saying Goodbye to my Uncle Bev

I was sitting under Glen’s porch at the lake, throwing pots, when a call came from my dad.  He was calling to say that my Uncle Bev had passed away.  

Uncle Bev had been living with multiple myeloma for several years.  The same thing my grandfather Doral passed away from.  He had struggled with the disease for many years, but his family seemed to know the end was approaching.  

My dad had gone down to Barnwell a few days earlier, with the rest of his siblings, to say goodbye.  Bev passed away shortly after.  I was so glad to know that his children, and siblings had time to hold his hand, and share words of love with him and with each other.

The view from Glen's porch, looking towards Aline Hill

My dad told me we would hear later about the timing of the funeral.  

I knew it was not likely that I would be able to make the trip to Barnwell.  I had been so lucky last summer, that things worked out to make it possible for me to travel there for Nadine’s funeral.

I thought back to that trip from the lake to Barnwell, with my mom, my dad, my sister Bonnie, and my own two kids.  A roadtrip full of stories about all of the Johnson relatives, memories of laughter and tears, work and play, struggles and celebrations, hardships and achievements.

I smiled thinking about running into my Johnson cousins at the 7-11 in Claresholm (seriously!? What are the odds of parking beside ones relatives at a bathroom break on a roadtrip?!).  I loved moving around at funeral (both at the church and the cemetery) holding the hands of those I have long loved, and reconnecting with aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandchildren.

The view towards Bastion mountain

And so, I sat under Glen’s porch, thinking about Bev, and looking at the lake around me.  I pulled out my camera to take a few shots of the view.  I remembered the many hours my Uncle Bev worked on other people’s projects.  

I remember him working on both my parents, and my uncle Glen’s house at the lake.  Sitting there under the deck, I wondered about the times that Bev too, while he worked on Glen and Janet’s house, must have turned his eyes towards the lake, the times he too would have watched the wind blow the waves inwards, the clouds move across the skies, and the sun set behind the mountains.  

Each day spent in Arta and Kelvin’s house at the Shuswap is also a day reminding of my Uncle Bev there, working alongside my dad.

The funeral is now come and gone.  I could not go, but did grill my dad and brother Doral. I have listened to my brother and father tell me about the music, the tears, the words of love.  I imagined myself there in the company of my relatives, celebrating the times spent with each other, celebrating a live well lived. 

Evening falls over Bastion Mountain

  

I thought about my earliest memories of uncle Bev and Barnwell.  Barnwell was different from Calgary.  The air was different, the water tasted different, and there was a sense of adventure and openness.   The wind seemed to blow all the time.  You could see it rippling across the grass, almost like a living creature.  The trees seemed to stand sentinel against the wind.  The trees also invited you to climb them…and imagining my dad swinging from them and breaking his arm was enough of a reminder to keep my own feet rooted on the ground, despite the invitation.  My cousins seemed braver.  The irrigation ditches were both terrifying and exciting to scramble around in, and I somehow remember thinking that they belonged to my Uncle Bev.   He seemed to know everything about science, and about the stars.  I remember being astonished to know that he could fly a plane.  What kind of magic was that?!  I loved visiting his house, which seemed so huge, the size of a mansion!  I loved playing there with Meriliee, and Val, who had a closet big enough for us to hide in.  I remember the piano, with the Reader’s Digest of Favourite Songs propped up, and seemingly any number of people able to play from it.  I remember his voice, that sounded so much like my own dad’s.  I remembered how my own dad’s voice would change anytime he got a call from Bev.  That sound, the sound of his voice, is inscribed on my heart.  

I only know one hundredth of a part of the grieving that Virginia will be feeling at the loss of his companionship. I am so grateful to have had him be a part of my life.  

Thirteen more lucky days

Yesterday was Pre-Op Teaching Class at the South Campus Hospital, 9 am to noon.  The nurse who taught the last 1/4 of the class saw me in the hall when the class was over.  "Glad to see you made it."

"I am so fully of happiness and gratitutde.  Overwhelmed."

"Yes.  Dr. MacKenzie took one day from his holiday to come back in and do five patients who really needed hip replacements."

That must be why I am so full of happiness.  Today is the 5th.  At this time in two weeks, I will be out of the hospital bed and practising.  Practising walking on my new hip.

Arta