My friend Glennis
Since I began taking interest in poetry and learning how to write it, I have befriended a lot of poets around the globe. One of them is Canadian poetGlenda Hobbs, who has always been very gracious to give kind comments and useful feedback to my poetry everytime I posted something in our group. For one reason or another, I call her Glennis and never got the habit of calling her Glenda. She has several books to her name and together with her husband, Harry who has published two novels under his belt, make the rounds of Canada for poetry readings and promoting their books. Her poetry is usually about her hometown Flin Flon, Manitoba, her family and ancestors, and her cats. It was also through her that my poem "Mr. Right" was included in "Idiots of the World: Think", an anthology of short stories and poems compiled by Sable Bennett in 2002.
I first met her and her husband in person when I was invited by our common friend Arlene. It was then that I realized I can pull it off as a poet. hehe It was also then that I met several other friends who flew in from the States to meet with us. These were Tom Spencer and his wife Kathy from Indiana, Molly Critchlow from Washington, Karli Shanklin and her hubby Alfredo, who is a FilAm from nearby Seattle. Since we were all there, Arlene figured it would have been cool for us to give a poetry reading in Steveston so she made all the preparations prior to our arrival. On the eve of the reading, we were singing songs after dinner and enjoying the view at the balcony. Harry's memory is amazing. He knows practically all the lyrics of all the songs we sang while I labored over the chords figuring it out on my folk guitar.
The reading was a success. People did actually come to listen. After the reading, our gracious host thought it would be cool for me and my wife to experience an off season thanksgiving party. Everybody tossed in. If my memory serves me right, Karli brought a dozen pies, Molly brought cranberry sauce, Kathy mashed potatoes and brusselsprouts while Arlene cooked a huge turkey in the oven while Nitz cooked the rice. Those were such happy times I shall remember the rest of my life. Anyway, I digressed.
I was invited again to come to Canada twice and everytime, Glennis and Harry would be there to welcome me even if that meant they would have to fly in from Manitoba and stay in a hotel for some days. Just the same, we would all be together in Arlene's house until the wee hours of the morning. Such a sweet friend, here's something she has written coming out from one of those soirees. Glenda's poem