Moth attack!
Beauty and the beasts
What better way to follow up an ice storm than a moth invasion?
We already survived a pantry moth explosion thanks to a Costco bag of quinoa. We tossed a bunch of food a few months ago.
“Meh, extra protein,” said one of my infectious diseases friends.
But now they have colonized my closet. If you know me at all, you would know that I love gowns.
I have a white wedding dress (see our daughter trying it on, above), the red cheongsam my parents made, and the cheongsam my parents bought me a few years later (not sure why, they just did), and at least three cheongsams my grandmother had made in Hong Kong that are too small for me.
Plus Montreal designers make gorgeous dresses, so I bought a bunch of those too.
My friends pass on their clothes to me if they’re moving or they’ve outgrown them.
Yes, I needed to clean my closet out anyway, and no, I didn’t want to wash my wedding petticoat by hand.
Anyway. The worst of it is over, but it sapped my energy and I still have a bunch to go, knowing that half these clothes might not fit anymore after hot water/dryer treatment +- dry cleaning. Blah. I can’t deal with it. Right now, I have to concentrate on clothes washing, followed by closet disinfection with vinegar. I won’t buy camphor because it can kill dogs, and red cedar oil sounds like more of a deterrent.
Hope your week is less pestilent!
______
A Half Century of Beauty
For their fiftieth anniversary,
He gave her a beast.
No one would ever call it that, of course
With its radiant white coat,
Infinitely gentle brown eyes
And most of all,
The legend of its power
And beauty.
It raised its head
To stare at her on the castle balcony.
No bridle covered its lovely head.
No groom held a pair of reins in his hand.
Instead, the animal's cloven hooves
Stood freely on the cobblestones.
She licked her lips
And turned to her husband.
"My lord, I am nearly speechless.
You know I am no maiden."
He kissed her cheek and replied, smiling,
"My love, have no fear."
He’d retained a way with animals
And an instinct for charms and remedies that
She’d never encountered in purely human folk,
So she descended the stone staircase
Circling the cold newel stairs,
And the animal did approach her
As if sensing the loneliness in her heart
Matched by its own.
She cradled its head,
Avoiding the horn
Pointing toward her face.
She dared not prick her finger
As in another immortal tale.
Instead, she stroked the soft mane
And wondered why, in this half-century
Of consecrated wedding vows,
legendary love,
and near-fairy tale bliss,
She and her husband
Had never created
A single life in her womb.
The villagers remained too afraid
or superstitious
To pass on their own babes
No matter how ill or frail.
So all her bairns
Wore feathers or fur or scales.
Today, she caressed the unicorn.
Her tears dripped into its shining coat
But she called up to her husband,
"My lord, she is beautiful,"
And kissed her newest beast.
That’s a poem from my collection, Chinese Cinderella, Fairy Godfathers & Beastly Beauty, eligible for the Aurora Award this year, but I forgot to let people know because I’m awful at this award stuff. Oh, well. Hope you enjoy it now.
This poem was originally published in the Fairy Tale Magazine. They’re running a contest right now, so feel free to enter!
In May, I head to Ottawa to work on our play, Terminally Ill. We’ll give the public a sample May 13th evening (probably Lab O around 6 pm, but exact time and date TBA). Stay tuned! You can always read the book first if you’re a nerd like me.
Cheers,
Melissa
P.S. I’m still shortlisted for the Derringer Award for the best mystery story in 2022. Please feel free to vote, and keep your eyes and ears open. The Review, the Standard Freeholder, and CBC’s All in a Day may mention it. Love our local media!