I don’t recall the actual move from Cottage Road to our house on Royal Avenue. Maybe I was away at summer camp (that’s a whole blog post in itself). My Dad was tired of renting & was ready to build a family. The neighbourhood was working class Catholic. St Teresa’s Church down the street from us plus a Convent. My new school was Ashby School that went from kindergarten to grade VII.
Much large than Colby. I cannot remember a name of a single teacher though. We did have ‘visiting’ teachers who went from school to school teaching things like music, French, even mathematics. I missed my Cottage Road friends though & would visit them frequently. I did gradually make some nearby buddies.
Ashby School was a short walk from our house. Shorter if one cut through a field & a laneway. We would go through people’s yards often even though we were warned often not to trespass. There were older guys at this school so there was spot where they hung out to smoke. Some girls had reputations for putting out. My first ‘sex’ ed happened in the school yard here.
Also some of my initial boy-to-boy contact happened about this time too. Very innocent looking, touching. One boy bragged about getting pubic hair & showed us. As a blond, what body hair I had was invisible, so I had nothing to show. I hadn’t hit my puberty growth spurt yet either & I remained under 5’5 until I left high-school.
I was always hounded by teachers & my parents for being lazy & not living up to my potential. I was an indifferent student getting average grades. Recess is a blur of tag, bullies & learning to swear. The school yard had a fair hill along Howie St so there was sledding in the winter.
One of my formative lessons in ‘talent’ was learned here. There was an annual city wide art contest that we were all encouraged to enter. There would be a ‘gallery’ in the school & the more realistic the picture were the better they were placed in the show. I was a colour & shape kid so always ended up being on the last row. 
Lost in The Forest
I dig in my back yard
not a farmer tilling soil
to replenish the food supply
nor a picky gardener
putting the exact right plant
into the perfect alkaline soil
for maximum growth
I dig
and shove in whatever
selective only as to color
I know a bit about shade plants
but sometimes even then
I don’t care
let the plant do what it can
I’ve given it a spot
keep weeds at bay for a few weeks
I dig deep enough
never deeper than needed
sometimes
I come across
sometimes bits of shale
rocks sand
once pieces of blue willow china
I dig
I plant
I water but count on the sky father
to provide rain
for his plant children
I dig
I plant
I enjoy washing earth off my hands
cleaning my finger nails
I feel connected
I even feel connected
through the concrete asphalt
on the 20th floor
in the parking garage
it doesn’t matter
the force of this earth
reaches to me
I feel safe surrounded
in touch
when I am in any forest
I feel alien
unwelcome hunted haunted
wandering wondering
where can I dig here
what can I plant
every Tuesday 2019
August 2-13: getting back to my roots in Cape Breton 
August 8: Highland Arts Theatre: https://www.highlandartstheatre.com
Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet
September
Shaw Festival – Sex (Mae West)
Stratford Festival – Little Shop Of Horrors
October
Stratford Festival – The Crucible
December
The Secret Handshake Gallery – 
feature – date TBA
June – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C. 
capfireslam.org
Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s capfireslam.org – sweet, eh? paypal.me/TOpoet
Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/topoet
