What fun we had at our Writers' Group at B's condo

Donna Krause came with brother Bob. Beatriz has photos on FB but they come out teeny tiny on here.

Oh, quick, before I forget. A tall white-haired guy with a hearing aide who looked like a college professor told us he was reading Robert Gottlieb's memoir.

Gottlieb is considered a great editor and realized one day he was in his 80s and he better start writing about all the noted literati he knew. Here's a story from The Paris Review.

Can you imagine how bad I'm gonna feel about all them books I've never read and never will.



Beatriz read an essay about Argentina. She was 28 or 29 when she came to the USA.

She wrote about the fascist dictator and Nazi sympathizer Juan Peron.

Comparing him with our president-elect, she said Peron was much worse.

If you didn't agree with him, they'd throw you in prison or force you to resign your job, as her father had to do.

And apparently so did the great BORGES, whom I saw when I was married and living in Austin TX. I think they have his 'papers.'

Photo please, Internet



Ah, he was once young and sighted. 

The Aleph is one of my favorite stories of his.

Beatriz is 82 and her older brother is 86. He will visit her in December for a week. That man travels all around the world b/c he's in relatively good health.

At the start of our group, we all complained.

How fun was that!

I said I wake up with a stiff leg, which aches and aches. I immediately throw myself on the floor and do 5 minutes of exercise and then feel fine!

Marf has horrific sciatica and her wonderful husband David is a tremendous help. She does exercise but it doesn't do much good.

I, of course, had an operation the same year I had my kidney tplant. Told Marf I used to drive in my car with my left leg on the front seat.

While the group was going on, Marf wrote a poem about SAVERS, a new thrift store in Willow Grove.

     She swore she'd never go back but now it's her new addiction. And what a great poem it was making us all want to visit it.

Marf wore a puffy pink jacket, very warm, which was from Savers.



Juan Peron had a number of wives. Three. Eva was only 33 when she died of cancer. She had a huge following among the Peronists, like Ivanka will. Is that her name?



Evita!

Beatriz's father was part of the Underground while Peron was alive. They exchanged manuscripts they were forbidden to teach students.

  Linda Barrett came late as she was undoubtedly finishing her poem which was meant to console us about our new president-elect. It was quite good but she's revising it.

Oy vey! My butt is killing me. Gotta stand up and prance around.

As I'm writing this, Barry Bush and I are comparing notes about our kidney transplants. Like me, he is following orders to a T, as he doesn't wanna compromise his Gift of Life.



Par example, this is my daily omelet. One of my prohibitions is to make sure my eggs are thoroughly cooked. I make sure every day. Sushi? I love it but am not allowed to eat it. Grapefruit and pomegranite products? Verboten.

  Donna Krause read a poem about her new cat, Katie, who Denny picked out at the SPCA. Onyx had passed away. And leave it to Linda Barrett to write a memorial poem about Onyx.

"Our Katie Girl" was very descriptive. She's believe to be part Maine Coon b/c of the M on her forehead.

   Must read here.

 Donna's brother Bob came and read an amazing piece about what he's been through in the past two and a half months.

He had two surgeries! He had a major heart attack, so he had Bypass surgery where they attached some of his veins to his heart, and then the surgeon wanted to go in again for his carotid artery.

As Marf said, he looks marvelous! You would never know. He'd been working at Wendy's

         and forgot to take his Dilantin, seizure medication, and passed out in the back. That's how they learned he'd had the heart attack.



Rem is within 20 pages of finishing his novel. As you remember, he begins each chapter with the name of a song.

Gary Wright Dream Weaver. Listen here.

As usual, he reads like a performer, and there were lots of amusing parts where we laffed out loud. When he's finished with the novel, he has a music project on tap.

Good lines included a "neat-o car" and after he made a phone call he said, "Is this the party to whom I'm speaking." 

As for me,


I read two short stories.

One was about a turkey farm getting ready for Thanksgiving. I submitted it already, after goggling fiction about animals.

Thother was a story I'd began and wanted to finish called The Missing Girl. In reality, the missing girl, who had bipolar d/o, was sadly found dead. At least she spared her parents the sight of their finding her dead at home.

My girl, Beth, had been forced to take Abilify, which addled her brains, so she left home to get every bit of it out of her system.

C'est ca. That's it. Fini.

Bedtime? Well, TV time. And reading time.

   I've read most of this on my stationery bike!!! At first it was so boring I was gonna quit. It's getting better all the time, tho, as the Beatles wrote. Gosh, I sound like Rem!