Thursday evening, I read with the regional winners of the
Jose Gouveia poetry contest at Preservation Hall here in Wellfleet. It’s an annual event and the audience seems
to enjoy it every year. It went very well again this year. I always try out new
poems since no books are sold at the event, so I might as well take advantage
of that to read new stuff.
Until I read a new poem out loud to an audience, I never feel as if I’m done revising it. What doesn’t yet work is so much more obvious when I perform that poem than when I am at the computer.
Friday I conducted a seder from my Haggadah at our home. Since we’re now back to doing the seder here in our small dining room, we have to severely limit the people we invite. Eight is all that can sit at our dining room table. I started cooking some of the feast on Thursday. Woody made his fabulous matzoh ball soup on Friday; I had made charoset the day before [I make a Sephardic charoset with almonds as I can’t eat walnuts], hardboiled many eggs and then roasted one of them. A friend brought fresh eggs from her hens. I always make a Sepharic egg-cuke-fennel dish for the first course, just before the gefilte fish. Years ago we made gefilte fish ourselves – never again. It was messy and semi-disgusting. We buy jars of it that is just fine. I hurt my ankle cleaning up and it backtracked into a lot of pain, after not having to wear ‘Das Boot’ for several days – now I’m back in it. I didn’t wear it at the seder: I really should have.
I roasted a leg of lamb – a dish called sesame lamb. I asked people to make or bring kosher l’Pesach desserts. Years ago, I made a potato flour cake. It took a long time, came out of the oven looking gorgeous and needed all of five minutes to totally collapse. Never again to that too, although I have made almond macaroons since quite successfully. Woody made his classic Pesach chicken soup with his patented light matzoh balls. Sunday night we’ll eat leftovers. No lamb was left but we have plenty of charoseet and chicken soup with matzoh balls.
Saturday night we went over to a friend’s house who was giving a party. Martha is just back from the winter in Puerto Rico. In the meantime, the saga of Woody’s mother’s cat Lady goes on and on and on. We’re still hoping it can come off on Monday, that Danny can get the cat into the carrier and meet Woody near Madison CT and that Woody can get the cat back to Wellfleet before 4 pm so it can go straight to the vet.
The saga of Woody’s mother’s cat has taken about 6 days of my being able to do nothing else. I hope we can bring it off Monday, I really do. I’m very nervous about it. If we can’t succeed, the cat will be killed and Woody’s Mother will be kicked out of the facility with noplace to go. We know she is going to try to prevent Danny from taking the cat.
Twice before I found a new home for the cat and she changes her mind and starting screaming at us that we’re trying to steal her cat. The last straw with the facility was when she took to leaving her door open and letting the cat wander the building. It wouldn’t be the first time or even the second time she has done this and been evicted from an apartment; but the nursing home is the last stop for her.
I have to get ready for two readings in Providence that will occur next Friday and Saturday at the Book Festival there. I must get both programs settled on Sunday since I need Dale to find all the poems I’m planning to read in enlarged print. No matter what I say beforehand, sometimes people pay no attention to my need for strong light. So, I always carry along the poems I intend to read in 14 point typeface.