Joy at the election results, initial euphoria has been dampened by Trump’s efforts to annul the election, his firing of people who are not 100% loyal to him and his refusal along with Moscow Mitch to give the Biden team what it needs for a peaceful transition of power.  Once again, some fear is constant, but far less because we have to hope that the Secret Service that he has used without regard for their health and safety can forcefully escort him from the White House if he throws a tantrum and refuses to move out.

 I’M GIVING WHAT I CAN TO BOTH Senate candidates in Georgia, as Moscow Mitch says he will not approve Biden’s cabinet appointees. 

 I judged the national and regional WOMR sponsored Jose Gouveia poetry contests in February, having read and reread all the entries in January.  We were scheduled to have a poetry reading of theregional winners and the honorable mentions, followed by a short reading from me. We’ve done this at Preservation Hall in Wellfleet every year of the contest, but Covid prevented that this April,  Finally, since the 2021 contests will be opening almost immediately, john Braden  put together a ZOOM event that Jeannette de Beauvoir hosted on Thursday evening.  It went well, I believe.  I read from ON THE WAY OUT, TURN OFF THE LIGHT.

We had an unusually warm spell for several days – a great time to work outside.  Now it’s getting colder and we’ll have a freeze this week again.  this Wednesday, Karen Pasquale and I will get together to plan our small Thanksgiving.  It’ll finally be too cold to sit on the sun porch.  We were able to have Bonnie and David over last Saturday evening on the porch, as it was mild enough.  I made a Greek lamb dish. Probably our last visitrs there.  We plan to have the five of us in the living room with the door open, two windows open and the fan on.  Woody bought sturdy tray tables that we’ll use. We can be a good 12 feet apart, easily.  We’ll see how it goes.  Each family will make half the meal.  Karen and her son Tony are both fine cooks.

I wrote three poems this week, a good working week.  I have been doing my holiday shopping.  Since Melenie and Jay are still holed up not seeing anyone, we won’t be able to have a holiday with them this year, not Thanksgivng, not the solstice party we will not be holding this year for the first time in over twenty years.  No parties at all this year.  I’ve always enjoyed being a successful party giver, ever since I lived in New York.  This year, no birthday parties, no Derby party, no workshop party, no Halloween, no Thanksgiving, and no December holidays except with the just two of us or one of the other individuals or couples in our bubble.  Sad but essential.  I was afraid ofd Trump one, we’d be living  with Covid the rest of my life.  Now I hope that saner measures may prevail and eventually, eventually Covid may be controlled.  it sure doesn’t look that way now.

Stephanie and Tash had invited us over for Saturday evening, but they can only do it outside and it’s getting way too cold.  So they’re coming over here with our new living room protocols.  We’ll each make half the meal. We’re roasting a  duck, I’ll make a red cabbage dish and my mother’s apple cake.  Tash will make an orzo dish and an hors d’oeuvre. This is a dry run for eating in the living room with the tray tables, door open, windows open, fan on.  We’ll see how it goes. 

 Schwartzie is back to his mouse-loving ways.  I got up at 4 to pee and there he was in the bathtub with a mouse adoring it. The water dish had been spilled.  The shampoo and conditioning had been knocked into the tub.  I wiped up the water.  Jas I was about to go back to bed, Willow, who had been watching perched on the rim of the rub, made a grab for the mouse, jumping into the tub.  All hell broke lose and I retreated to my bed.