
Ah, yes, another action packed post from the Farmer's Wife...
Do you have your coffee and tirimisu ready?
Alright, here we go.
The Underground Bookclub met at Clara's house to discuss John Moore's book Loosening The Reins, with the very rare privilege of having the author present! John and Debbie Moore live just north of Miles City...a native son...and they graciously consented to a grilling by the bookclub. Well, we told them it would just be spaghetti and meatballs, but we had our questions all ready. We were going to go easy on him at first, but then get him with the zingers when he was trying to elegantly eat spaghetti.
*A side note here. If you have a guest who may accidentally intimidate you, serve spaghetti and meatballs. It's the great leveler of classes. Have you EVER been able to get around a plate of spaghetti, without slapping some of it on either your face, shirt or neighbor? Perhaps they should serve that at those stuffy White House dinners, with visiting diplomats from the Middle East. And the women could just suck the noodles through those little air holes in their burka hoods! But I digress...
We were missing a couple of bookclub members, sadly. I won't give you their real names, but "Feather", "Shelma" and "SethAnn" all had really good reasons to be gone. Calving came up frequently as an excuse, but Karen saw "Shelma" at the grocery store on her way to Lewistown for a rendezvous, so that alibi is busted...
Conversation was lively and we learned a lot about the craft of writing. At one point, Mr. Moore mentioned that we would make a good cast for a murder mystery novel, and proceeded to go around the table pointing out personality types. (Flake, Deep thinker, Has unplumbed depths, Down to earth, Mysterious, Lived a lot, English teacher) Yeah, I know. Now you are trying to go around the table in your head, placing people. He said you might do that.
Our menu was Mama Clara's Italiano Spaghetti and Meataballsa, tossed salad, cheesy garlic bread, green AND black olives, cheese stuffed pimento celery sticks, 4 bottles of wine, coffee and purtineer tirimisu. And wine.
AND at one point a tall, handsome, mysterious man drifted through the party, murmuring something about the grocery store. A brazen bookclubber requested dark chocolate. Twenty minutes later, the man returned with two huge bars of the darkest chocolate he could lay hands on in Jordan Montana, and was rewarded with hugs and kisses. He stuck around for a while after that. Too bad we are all married and so is he.
It was a really enjoyable evening, and we didn't let having the author restrain us. He, on the other hand, may never be the same. I asked Debbie to come back another time and give us the real stories, but I'm not sure she'll return, either. Unless Marisa makes more of that tirimisu... Have mercy, girl!