The Intrepid Travelers

Despite threats of an impending snowstorm, 12 poets and Georgia trekked to Quaker Street to the Willis' wonderful old farmhouse for an afternoon of food (!) and poetry discussion. The house is enormous (two kitchens, at least two woodstoves, and lots I didn't see) and crammed with interesting artifacts from Art and Judy's lives. I speak for all when I say thanks for having us. It was a great spot to be on a winter afternoon. Judy presided over homemade soup and Art was pushing his Irish tea in a pot that Linda Wolkenbreit had given him. We all ate ourselves full and I have some spinach artichoke dip that I am going to have for dinner tonight.

On the way out in Tom's car with Mike Burke, I pointed out local historical spots - a burned out nightspot from my youth(anybody remember The Swiss Inn?), a great diner called Gibby's you should all try - and exclaimed over the missing chicken. Did anyone else notice it was gone?

While Georgia and Judy had their own tete-a-tete, the rest of us gathered to share our favorite poets and talk about why we write. My impression (and strictly my own) is that some people missed the mark on what we planned to talk about and, as no one appeared to be in charge, it dragged. I should have brought the gavel. On the plus side, other people hit the nail and revealed themselves in good ways and I learned things about them.

In the midst of all, Gary and Mark broke the antique sofa.

We all left around 6 p.m. and, to the best of my knowledge, Tim made it safely home without hitting a deer and landing up in a field in a blizzard with no cell phone service.

Please comment on this blog! I would like to know your impressions of our Sunday.