Dodge Part Deux

I'm totally wiped and have had a couple of bottles of cider from an Irish pub in Somerville, so I don't know how eloquent I can be. Suffice it to say--the day was good, jam-packed with poetry. So much so, you sort of want to take shower and change clothes between different portions of the day. This is not a bad thing, but by the time the day has ended, we all sort of look like we've been moving house all day. Some sort of dazed and in need of a beer. At least that's my take on it. The Guinness looked good, the cider tasted better, though. So that's what we did. Left just after 9:45pm just as Sharon Olds and Galway Kinnell were winding up a poetic conversation about marriage where they read each other's poems and other poet's work to span a couple's life in all the stages of marriage. Really beautiful! We skipped out a bit early, though. We were tired and hungry and wanted to beat the crowds out of the parking lot.

I've got pages and pages of notes from each of the panels, and these will weave their way into my blog one way or the other over time.

I felt like the great democratizing unifier was muddy shoes (as you can see from the above picture of a woman's muddy shoe sitting to our left). High heeled, sneakers and sandaled feet, gumboots and knee high black boots all dipped in the same fondue of mud.

I bless the rain gods for leaving it overcast but never bringing on the predicted thunderstorms. Thank goodness for that.

I bought a beautiful warm hand made sweater and wound up rapped in it snug as a bug in that proverbial rug.

And on that snuggly note, I must sleep. As there is another final day to conquer at this festival. Where I've had such a good time.

More to follow...