We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;:
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me:
Shall be my brother;...
Up Reservoir
Hill trudged the brave curmudgeons ... to ultimately face the mountain
lions awaiting....
White Noise by Don Delillo was
considered and discussed in the warm Pagosa sunshine. Details may
be found here and the Poet
Laureate's rendition is here.
Some time was
eked out for libations and sustenance... as it turned out, no
blood was shed however a little Chianti was spilled.
Some
members felt the absurdity of life that DeLillo so humorously and
artfully described was understood by Maggie.