Tuesday was the first night of Hanukah and also my mother’s yahrzeit, the anniversary on the Hebrew [lunar] calendar of her death. I said Kaddish for her, both my own and the traditional Hebrew, lit her yahrzeit candle, fat in its glass, in the bathtub and later moved it to the bidet. Then we lit the first candles and did the holiday blessings before supper of spit roasted chicken, crispy potatoes and broccoli I frozen last June. The deluge of submissions to the class has slowed down for the holidays and I imagine will resume in January when the issue of POETS AND WRITERS zine with our little classified ad for the workshop is circulating. I wrote two poems this week and picked up the interrupted story. I figured out the ending but haven’t resumed writing, just revising what I wrote before all the mss. came in. I think I can bring it off. Wednesday night Woody went to the DownCape Downwinders meeting – we take turns going. That’s our local group trying to close Fukushima clone Pilgrim leaky nuclear power plant, one of the worst run in the country and oozing toxicity into Massachusetts Bay. There is no evacuation possible from Cape Cod when it blows. I stayed home to begin the first stage of the cassoulet I make for our annual solstice party. Of course we could not have the party last year as it was only two weeks after my operation and I wasn’t even going downstairs more than once or twice a day yet. Thursday I did more of it and then we went out for Chinese. Then Friday we both cleaned and cooked all day. Besides the enormous cassoulet [lamb, beans, pork, sausage, many flavors of herbs, homemade tomato sauce, etc, onions, garlic] I made a chocolate pie, a roast beef, a chickpea feta salad with peppers I roasted and the last parsley and mint from the garden. Woody made his noodle kugel. People brought many dishes – shrimp, ratatouille, tortellini, pineapple, carrot cake, cookies. It was a gorgeous spread. Everyone came who had accepted our invitations except one couple. It’s a nuisance when people say they are coming and bringing something you count on. Fortunately when they said they weren’t coming after all, there was just barely time for Woody to run to the store and get a baguette for dipping in the cassoulet. It was a fun party. There was no one there we were not delighted to see and spend time with. When we used to give our huge summer parties, some guests were invited out of politeness or some sense of obligation. None this time. Only 22 people we wanted to see. John Braden from Woody’s station, WOMR, brought the poems from the poetry contest now named for our departed longtime friend Jose Gouveia. This week I’ll start reading through the two batches, the national poems and the regional contest. Melenie and I have been eating stollen at lunch the days we work. We’ll probably finish it Monday. We’re taking Wednesday off. She has company coming. I have friends coming to dinner the next day. We finally had sun for half an hour today and then it rained yet again. Now it seems to be clearing a bit. The sky is beige. Strange looking. the birds are jamming the feeders. I wish the female cardinal wasn’t so meek. The far smaller chickdees push her aside.