Last night, we had a satisfying memoir class, the last of this session. Two women presented, two very different papers, and yet in both cases. I think through discussion they came to see what they were feeling and writing about more clearly. It's so satisfying when that happens. I always feel "on" at these classes because I know as facilitator or moderator or whatever I am, I'm expected to pull things together and make meaningful comments. One of our ladies has missed several meetings because of her husband's illness but she was back last night and wonder of wonders, she had a proof of the first volume of her memoirs. That's a pretty exciting accomplishment for this class, and we all cheered and wished her well. She does not plan to market publicly--this is a book for her family and friends and I'm glad she had no delusions of fame and fortune.
Our next session begins June 23, and most of the ladies are returning. In the year I've taught it I've only had two drop-outs; others come and go, saying they have too many committments for one session but they'll be back. And they do return. We are like a group of sorority sisters or something. One of the women who presented last night said she would never share her piece with anyone else, except perhaps her prayer group, but she felt free to discuss a difficult topic with us. I think she may have inspired me to write a piece and keep it handy in case we ever run out of presentation pieces. It will be titled, "The Road Not Taken," with appropriate bows to Robert Frost.
When class ended last night and I got the kitchen cleaned and myself settled down, I had 80 e-mails. Being OCD, I checked them all--hence no blog. Tonight, I have not much more to blog about. It's a lazy weekend, with Jacob out of town, his mother going out of town. I sort of floated through the day, which was pleasant, but tonight I've been working on my food blog.
I'll post a reminder again--all over, on Facebook, Twitter, whatever--but the first post will be up Sunday night on what I've decided to call Judy's Potluck. Friends Weldon and Beth suggested the name because they thought it implied the community participaton I want--y'all bring something to the potluck! I'll get it started with a few posts and then hope others will jump in with comments, recipes, recollections, even guest columns.
In the initial column, which I drafted tonight, I'll stress that I'm not a professional, trained cook--except by my mom, which was pretty darn good training. But cooking is my avocation, the thing that relaxes me. I guess I'm what they call a nurturer (is that a cliche these days?) but I love to feed people, and I love to try new recipes on guests--and myself.
I want to hear about your cooking, so I hope you'll join in.
Excuse me, but there's this Diane Mott Davidson book I've been trying to read all day. Gotta go.