Coffeeshop Writers' Group - Four Brave Souls Came out in the Snow

I always listen to music when I blog. I completely forgot about Henry Purcell - 1659 – 1695 - a prolific Englishman, who died at age 37. Here's his King Arthur.

I made a terrible faux pas over this music. My then-BF Paul S, who I was madly in love with, was hit with the sudden death of his father by heart attack. Paul also has a bad heart - he's my age - but cured his problem by eating Chard. Paul is an outspoken activist for liberal causes. When I knew him he had a full head of curly hair and a wonderful smile.

Paul's dad had a marvelous record collection in their home in Queens. My family lived in Englewood Cliffs, NJ, at the time.

Click to see our old house at 1 Loretta Court, Englewood Cliffs, NJ. My dad made a bundle back then.

I asked Paul if I could  have his dad's album of King Arthur.

Sure, he said, but he never gave it to me. I've suffered guilt to this very day.

Whew! Glad I got that off my chest. I'm not allowed to be in touch w Paul, cause his wife gets jealous. My info comes from his cousin Jonathan Katz,


Jon, were you always in Wiki?

Met Jon at Paulette Goddard College. .



Dyou believe Paulette Goddard was married to Erich Maria Remarque, author of All Quiet on the Western Front?

We love to learn, don't we readers?  But this? Are these things we really wanna know about? I can see you shaking your heads in dismay.

At 1:15, the Writers' Group emailed each other. The roads looked fine.

And they were! I tucked in my witches' broom into the back seat b/c the snow was very lightly falling.

Linda Barrett read an astoundingly good story about a WWI bomber pilot who had died and gone to heaven.

Her last story, Mr Cat's Revenge, talked about Muslims with great accuracy. Here, the deceased hero of her story - did it have a title? - was a Jew who converted to Christianity. She'd had it in mind for a couple of weeks but composed it last nite.

After Linda left to go to work, the three of us - Martha, Carly and myself - discussed whether Jews go to Heaven. I said the Jews have no philosophy or written words about the Afterlife. We all can believe what we wish. Click here, Rob. Don't worry, both you and I are on the direct road to Hell, I mean, HEAVEN.

Martha said only believers of Jesus will go to Heaven. This view has much veracity online. But I like this answer.

Linda's concept of heaven - lots of crystal - and of God - was very appealing.


Here's Robt Schuler's Crystal Cathedral in southern CA. You know what? If I were inside, I'd believe in Jesus.

Carly read a sensational first-person essay about these beautiful snowy days. In the beginning of our group I asked everyone if they'd submitted to the Montgomery County Community College Writers' Contest.

Everyone but Carly had.

She'll submit this piece.

Speaking of Chicken Soup for the Soul- thanks, Marf - for letting me know how good the samples were in the back of the Giant - my friend Gunter David, formally from this area, moved with his wife Dahlia to Boston to be with their children in their latter years.

Gunter, who survived Krystallnacht, has had many stories published in Chicken Soup for the Soul.

See how your own experiences - no matter how terrible - make for wonderful reading.

I also had cheese samples and ate my own peanuts. When I got home my blood sugar was an unacceptable 189 so I hopped on my bike and pedaled for 20 minutes. 

Martha, a grad of Kutztown University, wrote a piece on how she met her husband David. Wonderful story. The first time she set eyes on him, she told her housemates, "I'm gonna marry that man."

How wonderful they're still married.

I got mad at my man tonite.

When we all left the Giant, the snow was falling and sticking. I drove very carefully home, went next door to Scott's to tell him I was safe.

Then I called my writers to see if they got home safely. Did, but not easy. Carly and hubby will babysit little Cooper tonite. Marf and David will watch movies, eat fried chicken she bot at the Giant - yum! - and maybe play a game.

So, I saute the veggie toppings for our weekend pizza. Then, I trot over to Scott's and plop the bowl on the counter.

"For our pizza tonite," I said.

"Ruth," says Scott. "I'm heating up my ravioli in the toaster oven."

"Darn!" I say, turning around and heading out.

"Don't be mad!" he said.

"I am mad," I said. I'll be over later.

Last nite, I got an idea what to write about. I heard the words NIGHT SCHOOL and decided to write about that.

It's a true story with fake names. Carly is taking a class on Hypnotism at Abington Adult School. Martha herself has been hypnotized and a parade of characters began walking in front of her like a movie.

I was also hypnotized by my former therapist Jay Cherney, when I had manic-depression, and my brain was opened like Pandora's Box.



That illness sundered my brain. I had always been a brave girl but suddenly I was plagued with phobias which Jay helped me overcome. We'd go out and do all the things I was scared of... together.

Now I can