Two Meetings

Ramey, Jed and I went to Calera yesterday to the ASPS meeting. This photo is by Jerri H. It seemed to me that I smiled and grinned until my jaws were sore, but she managed to catch me looking--the way my mug looks in this picture--natural, I guess.

The "crowd" at the meeting was very small. When we arrived, a message came about the caterer; on the way to Calera he had been stopped by police, and all the food was unloaded and investigated. But eventually he arrived, and we had lunch. Then the prizes/awards were given out, and Ramey and I each won a couple of second and third prizes.

On Thursday, I went to the Leeds Arts Council where our poetry group entertained Jim and Liz Reed's Birmingham Arts Journal staff. This time there was a huge crowd, and I enjoyed meeting old acquaintances and new.

Something a bit funny happened when I got to the Arts Council--Joan D. hugged me, and one of her earrings got tangled in my hair. We spent about five minutes getting untangled, with everyone laughing at us.

Jed went back to Atlanta today, and I'm resting up for whatever this week has in store.

The Ghosts of Halloween

I want to make some more, maybe several in my old shrubbery, if I "have the time."

It's nearly noon, when I have to shift into high gear and get ready for tonight's event.

Now I'm Resting.

I made chicken cacciatore, rice, and a salad for lunch. Dropped half a can of fire-roasted tomatoes in the floor and had to mop the kitchen. Flipped a piece of chicken under the burner on the cook-top and just got mad and flipped it back into the skillet. Fortunately, whenever I cook up a "mess o' sump'n," the rescued remains nearly always tastes good.

So now I'll go and see if lunch is as good as it smells.

Pretty Good Substitute

I've invented a drink that's almost as good as Coke: 2 oz. cranberry juice "cocktail," 6 oz. 7up, a few ice cubes.

I've made a pretty good start on the new novel--two pages, which I reduced to two paragraphs, which I further reduced to two sentences. Instead of laboring so much over the rest of it, I'm going to try to finish the first draft in October.

Tomorrow is the deadline for entering the Alabama State Poetry Society's 2015 fall contests. I think I'll send "Naming the Beasts" and "The Ghost Who Walks." "Leaving Shambhala" has never won a prize, but it has been published, so I won't enter it.

I love Google's tribute to Edith Head's 116th birthday. That lady designed not only beautiful gowns, but whole wardrobes for movies all the years of my youth and early maturity. In my opinion, she was a better designer than all those French and Italian guys put together.

*

Well, it was a terrific weekend around here. Jed came over Friday and brought a new haunted-house game. Ramey, Susan, Jesse, India and her friend Jason came over, and we all went to Logan's where Jed treated us to dinner. Then we (all but India and Jason) played the game, which has about 1.5 million game pieces and two or three volumes of instructions. Jed and Jesse had to tell us how to proceed. We're lucky to have two such savvy gamesters in the family.

Then on Saturday, Jed and I went to Montevallo for the state poetry society awards luncheon. I won four prizes, including a first, a second, and two honorable mentions. Ramey won a prize in one of the contests, and Jerri H. and Evelyn H. won a couple of dozen prizes apiece. Evelyn is one of my favorite poets, and a beautiful lady. This time I remembered to take my camera, but didn't take any pictures.

I forget what we did Saturday evening. Jed read A Wrinkle In Time again over the weekend. Then Sunday we ate lunch at Chili's in Trussville, and Jed went back to Atlanta.

I hope a good time was had by all; it certainly was by me.
*
Here's what I forgot: Friday night we gathered at Susan's and ate fried chicken and looked at the game. It was Saturday evening that we went to Logan's. I'm learning to live with my aging memory. In one of Alice Munro's short stories, there's a priceless line by a woman whose husband was concerned about her losing and not remembering things: "I don't think it's anything to worry about," she said, "I'm probably just losing my mind."