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I'm a twenty-two year old student of English and Canadian Studies. This is my personal blog where you'll find a ton of Canadiana ranging from the Group of Seven, to the Trailer Park Boys, to Canadian politics and history. At the same time you'll find a lot of not Canadiana. Namely Harry Potter, and my personal ramblings about life and academia.
Tags have been organized all nice four your surfing convenience, and if you have questions or comments feel free to drop an ask.
“You’re still angry with Fred.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement as Jim pulled up a chair to join Arthur for lunch.
“Of course I’m still angry with Fred,” said Arthur, shaking too much salt over his soup, setting the shaker aside harder than he’d meant. Jim didn’t flinch.
“He punched you in the face,” the younger artist persisted, shoveling a spoonful of soup into his mouth. It burned his tongue and brought tears to his eyes.
“Yes, well,” Jim began, and Arthur scowled at him for the familiar devil’s advocate tone, “I provoked him.”
“Jim.” Arthur’s spoon landed in his bowl with a splash as he splayed both hands on the table between them. “You were defending Tom’s name! I don’t recall exactly, but I’m sure I was there too on account of the fact that I had to drag Fred off. What I saw was Fred mouthing off about Tom having more pieces in the exhibition than he did, you politely—very politely—told Fred that he was out of line, and then he boxed you in the eye.”
“The two of you shouldn’t let the issue fester,” said Jim.
Arthur stared, his mouth slightly open. “You collapsed two weeks ago, and now he’s gone and punched you in the head, and knocked the sense right out of you, apparently. And if he does it again I’ll kill him, and I told him that.”
“And here we are, on the brink of a weekend sketching trip and I’m wondering if we’ll all make it out alive,” said James, averting his eyes meditatively to the ceiling as he started on his own lunch. “I thought the war was over.”
“I painted my whole living room with blackboard paint, and people who come to the house leave me silly messages and random doodles. My mom though I was mad when I did it, but it does actually look cool.”
Studio work done. I’m now revising. Can you tell?
Harry and Ron, Auror work.
I love Harry and Ron doing Auror work. I love Harry and Ron doing Auror work more than I love Harry and Ron at any other point in the series.
I just flipped through all of There is None of This in England, registered how long it is, how much time I spent on it, all the feels I felt writing it, then considered the fact that this has to be revised and sent to the protagonist’s great grandniece. And then I promptly threw up.
So I open one of the new books I got and I find A PHOTO I’VE NEVER SEEN BEFORE AND OMG IS IT POSSIBLE FOR JIM TO GET ANY CUTER BECAUSE I MEAN I DON’T KNOW.
On to reading Goblet of Fire, my favourite book of all time.
Black Spruce.
This cat reminds me of A.Y. Jackson I don’t know.
polar bear on Hudson’s Bay
terresauvage said:
Whats the one in the middle? The cover design is gorgeous!
This is A Word to Us All by Jim MacDonald (written and illumined by him) and edited and published by the scholar Robert Stacey (who also authored the small blue book I’m holding in the webcam pic) in 1996. It’s a rare thing. This one I have is copy 174 out of 500.
Three new Jim MacDonald books came in the mail today! aksjfga
My dad (front) and his friend Glen fishing at Gull Lake, 1999.
@Cmdr_hadfield “The only thing that delights me more than this picture is imagining her thoughts.”
sketchy wifi on Flickr.
