Selves-Portrait

Holed up here in inexplicably poetry-mad Wallace, Nova Scotia. Connolly loses the coin toss and has to open for Tierney. Tierney catcalls from the back row. Row follows between Connolly backers and Tierney supporters. But...we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Lovely dinner with Linda Little and Reading-by-the-Sea folks, a mild curry that's sure to be terrific at both ends. Booked into the Jubilee Cottage, also by the sea, with rooms locked by skeleton key. "Woowhee," says Connolly.

Surprise eco-amubush by Harry Thurston who was a mere 45-minute drive away. Selected Poems coming soon from Signal Editions. Also present, a couple of recently transplanted Upper Canadians from Elmira--brought out because of the Ontario-nacity of Connolly and Tierney.

ExSellEnt Rode AdVenChure Kwiz. Which of these are not in our room right now?

1. Mickey of Crown Royal

2. Sixer of Oland

3. Propane-less fireplace

4. Jacuzzi tub with rubber ducky

5. Dessicated bow-tied Teddy

6. Two ambidextrous Wallace Bay hookers

Answer: #6. ("Hookers" in Double-U Bay parlance are arts and craft artisans.)

For 60 minutes tonight, Wallace was by all accounts the poetry capital of the Northeast NS shore. And for these two pilgrims that feels pretty good.