Writers' Group at B's - My story The Promise

Doubtless there are many pollinators on my front lawn, including dandelions. In Beatriz's short essay - The Buzz about Bees - she pondered whether or not to rid lawns of dandelions as they are a boon to pollinators, the many many species of bees who are dying off for many reasons.

The lawn of her condo is sprayed with noxious fumes. She said dandelion greens are delicious in salads.

She also told us - and I'd wondered about this - that we're losing our FIREFLIES!

What are we doing to our beautiful earth!

And, NO, Allan Heller, I am not intimidated to stop using my fave word, "delicious." Allan, btw, thought of the title for B's essay.

Got up early this morning and walked around the block. Before I started my short story I took a lil nap. Went on Netflix and found the soft-spoken artist Bob Ross, who could lull Jack the Giant Eater to sleep. Let's give it up for the late Bob Ross.

I'd set my timer for 20 minutes and was quite alarmed when it went off.

Fernando, Argentinian compatriot of B's, let us eat cake today. Hmm, I said about his zucchini bread, not too sweet. Later I learned he made it with Stevia.

Here's his banana bread. What? You don't like banana bread? Try this with nuts and figs. And very nice with the hot coffee Allan rustled up for us.

I must tell you I just got off my bike. With the fan trained on me I pedaled for 25 minutes while reading two books.

Sugar is a perfect 97.

More exciting chapters from Allan's The Village of Blood and Stone, which he read in his stentorian voice. C'mon already. Let's get out of the deadly forest.

Allan told us about various family members who lost their lives in World War II. His 90-yo uncle still doesn't want to talk about the Pandora's Box it would open.

Read this new story that considers PTSD a physical diz. From June 10.

Rem came straight from his half-day at the post office - see his insignia? - and read several chapters of his book. Much of it is autobiographical about his late wife Valerie, whose schizophrenia was downgraded into manic depression, tho she never got depressed.

Thanks, Rem, for burning me a copy of Golden Earring! I can't listen to it downstairs on the stereo my sister Donna gave me.

Mr. Flecks makes anudder appearance in his novel, as we knew he would. Linda Barrett was laffing hysterically and Allan also thought it quite funny, as did Donna K.

I certainly enjoyed it and marked up his copy with ****** asterisks to show I cared.

THE DREADED DISEASE was a terrific account of Donna's bout with cancer, done in poetry!

Very visual! She and B both described what it was like getting radiation therapy. For Donna, tho, the cancer wasn't the worst part of her diz.

It was her depression, which tops all diseases! I too will vouch for that.

Once, at New Directions, we had a man with cerebral palsy arrive in a wheelchair. His CP paled in comparison to his depression.

Donna drove over herself. Good for you!

Linda, wearing the Giant insignia, read her short story about the First Time she had sex. It was very well done.

See, many of us entered the competition, due June 30, about The First Time. Mine was about using mescaline at Goddard College for the first and last time.

Linda's written and rewrin this story many a time but must stick to the main point... The First Time.

You can do it, Linda!!!

I arrived slathered up in suntan lotion in case a big black vulture wants to come down and eat me. Let's find a photo of me somewhere.

Oh, this is my FB photo, taken at the kids' house in Glenside.

You gotta cover your bod with lotion if you're taking antirejection meds, which I do.

My story was called.... hmmmm.... Oh yes, The Promise.

Got the idea when I lived in San Fran and worked for a place called Cal/Ink. A lovely woman named Lenore had had a mastectomy and that's how I came up with the idea, which I just executed this morning.

Four pages. Martha, who wasn't there, found it "exciting and profound."

At B's house we talked about a new David Letterman interview. He now wears a beard. Like in the Roald Dahl short story THE TWITS.

Have a great evening, folks!