Nick Della Guardia, hope it's spelled right, was there. It was like meeting an old friend. What a vibrant fellow.
I'll bet you're happy with what THE DONALD is doing, I said.
He is. "The economy's doing great," said Nick.
His wife Sandy is still crocheting her lovely blankets and scarves. I've bought half a dozen and mailed them as baby gifts.
Here's a blog about my getting my new kitchen floor.
It's very long and absolutely fascinating.
Last night I wore SHORTS for the first time this year when the writers n poets came over.
I'd set the table in the kitchen but everyone wanted to stay dans le living.
What a cleaning-fest I went on.
Did I tell you the delicious food I bought?
Red roasted pepper hummus, carrots and celery to dip in, red raspberries we never touched, - hold on - I'll make up for that now -
And we jabbered until around 11:30 pm as cool breezes blew thru the screen door.
Where else can you talk about The Dubliners by James Joyce or what type of people have premarital sex - the Catholics? - for sure, said one of our Protestants.
We discussed pot for pain - I dunno how to spell marijuana, so I wrote pot instead.
When I was finished putting the snacks on the table, I ran upstairs to write something.
PILGRIM, I called it. It was about a Jewish soldier returning from Iraq and Afghanistan and not having anything to live for.
They LOVED it!!!
We also talked about the great William Zinnser who wrote WRITING WELL.
I did not mention my hideous leg pain, but this morning, before Ellen got here, I did Peggy Cappy yoga from the Internet.
CUTTING LILACS AT NIGHT
Who wants lilacs, I announced,
after the party was over.
Judy found a silver shears
and out we went into the
chilly night air.
I carried a flashlight
and handed it to Linda
to hold, while I stepped
on the moist grass. Strands
and strands of lilacs
glistened in the night air.
Shimmering.
Clip clip clip
Onto the tall grass they fell.
Originally billed as "Dwarf Lilacs"
they disobeyed their limitations
and rose toward the beloved sky.
Here you are, Lori, named for a
TV soap opera star. She reached out
eagerly to clasp them as if receiving
a bridal bouquet.
Marlene had been in Paris.
Her black hair shone like
a princess in the night.
For thou, I said, for thou.
And I felt like my duty was done.
And then some.
What would my lilacs look like
in the bright morning sun?
And now, if you'll excuse me, am going out on Scott's deck to get some sun and to read a bit.
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