30 Day Blogging Challenge: Day 15

Halfway there! Yesterday I talked about my irrational fear of heights. Today’s topic is a rather unlikely scenario…

Dinner Party – 10 Guests, Plus Menu

I’m having a dinner party! I’m inviting 10 people, living or dead, to my dinner party for storytelling, conversation, humor, and hopefully education.


tom hanks

Pope Francis

mr masset



mother teresa


holocaust survivor

hillary or heidi

chris plummer



I’m especially looking forward to meeting Jesus and my great, great, great relative who emigrated to America long, long ago. And the Sound of Music reprisal (among other things) at the “after party.”

Mr. Masset is the only person on my guest list that I know in real life. He was my high school English teacher, so I definitely have him to thank for my love of writing. We’ll toast to him after dinner.

Menu: Jesus will bring the wine, and several guests are bringing a dish to pass. I will be making Company Pot Roast, a roasted vegetable medley, and store-bought sweet potato pie.

My guests will be memorizing O Captain! My Captain! for a rousing recitation at the end of the evening. Drinks at 5 pm, dinner at 6, and the party keeps going until we’ve heard everything worth hearing from everyone.

Here are the words for O Captain! My Captain! for all to memorize.

O Captain! My Captain!

By Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
                         But O heart! heart! heart!
                            O the bleeding drops of red,
                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
                         Here Captain! dear father!
                            This arm beneath your head!
                               It is some dream that on the deck,
                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.

Seems like a somewhat sad way to end the evening, but it’s the only poem I know by heart, so it’ll have to do.

Tomorrow’s topic: A letter to myself as a child


4 thoughts on “30 Day Blogging Challenge: Day 15

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