If someone starts a sentence with “No offense, but . . .” chances are real good you’re going to be offended.
If you go to lunch with your friend and her adorable 21-month-old little boy, every waitress in the restaurant will come over to talk to him, but no one will bring you another glass of iced tea.
If a network is going to constantly publicize a new TV show months and months before it premiers, it’s not surprising you could care less when it actually airs.
If the doctor says it’s a simple procedure with a local anesthetic but asks if you would prefer to be knocked out, say “Yes, knock me out.”
If a picture paints a thousand words, then a book must paint a picture.
If you don’t work outside the home, and your spouse wants you to spend weekends helping with home projects, then weekends are just like any other day.
If you really don’t care about someone’s opinion, then why do you bother asking?
If you even hint at being bored, someone will find something for you to do and it will usually involve a committee.
If you go to the state fair and don’t eat something really bad for you, then you don’t have full “fair experience.”
Pictures of the NE State Fair coming soon!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
I Was Just Thinking
Quick Note: I may have trouble with vacuum cleaners, but at least I don’t have this guy’s problem.
Some Random Thoughts for Today
August is like the Wednesday of months. It’s not the beginning of Summer, nor is it the beginning of Fall. It’s still hot, but every now and then there’s a cool breeze that teases me that Fall is actually coming.
Birthday cake is just as good when it’s a left-over.
I saw Hairspray with my friend and her daughter, who said she was there for the music, but I think it was for Zac Efron. It was a great movie, though not as edgy as the original. And Christopher Walken and John Travolta’s musical number was so romantic.
That last sentence is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever typed.
I love taking a walk and hearing the faint rumble of drums from the high school band practicing. It’s another sign that Fall is coming.
Fall is my favorite season, can you tell?
How long do you have to keep birthday cards before you can throw them away without feeling guilty?
Why do gray hairs stick out straight, rebelling against the curl of the other hairs?
Gerard Butler. I saw 300 and it was amazing.
You’d think a library card would stay active as long as it was being used, wouldn’t you.
On the same page in the local paper were ads for two concerts: Marilyn Manson and Hannah Montana. Hannah Montana sold out within hours.
Would it be weird for me to write thank you cards for Al’s birthday gifts? I don’t think Al will do it, and I get to enjoy his gifts, too, so maybe it’ll be OK.
The Snickers commercials are too weird; they almost make me not want one. Almost.
My mom gave me this award:
Yea for nepotism! I’m supposed to pass it on, but I’m too nice to leave anyone out, so everyone gets the award.
Some Random Thoughts for Today
August is like the Wednesday of months. It’s not the beginning of Summer, nor is it the beginning of Fall. It’s still hot, but every now and then there’s a cool breeze that teases me that Fall is actually coming.
Birthday cake is just as good when it’s a left-over.
I saw Hairspray with my friend and her daughter, who said she was there for the music, but I think it was for Zac Efron. It was a great movie, though not as edgy as the original. And Christopher Walken and John Travolta’s musical number was so romantic.
That last sentence is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever typed.
I love taking a walk and hearing the faint rumble of drums from the high school band practicing. It’s another sign that Fall is coming.
Fall is my favorite season, can you tell?
How long do you have to keep birthday cards before you can throw them away without feeling guilty?
Why do gray hairs stick out straight, rebelling against the curl of the other hairs?
Gerard Butler. I saw 300 and it was amazing.
You’d think a library card would stay active as long as it was being used, wouldn’t you.
On the same page in the local paper were ads for two concerts: Marilyn Manson and Hannah Montana. Hannah Montana sold out within hours.
Would it be weird for me to write thank you cards for Al’s birthday gifts? I don’t think Al will do it, and I get to enjoy his gifts, too, so maybe it’ll be OK.
The Snickers commercials are too weird; they almost make me not want one. Almost.
My mom gave me this award:
Yea for nepotism! I’m supposed to pass it on, but I’m too nice to leave anyone out, so everyone gets the award.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Such a Chore
Why is it the seemingly simple things can be so difficult? Those every day things that we all do, those chores that come with just existing. Beds have to be made, furniture has to be dusted, trash has to be taken out, and carpets have to be vacuumed.
Ah, there’s the rub. Vacuuming. I’m the world’s worst vacuumer. And no, I’m not going to use the obvious description, I’ll just say that I stink at it.
It seems easy enough. Push the machine around the floor and violá! Clean floors for casual seating. But it’s not that easy. It has to be set for the correct height; otherwise I either don’t pick up enough or I feel like I’m pushing a tree stump around the room. Plus, apparently there are rules about whether I can use the bristles on certain surfaces. I’ve been warned and threatened not to use the “bristle setting” on the area rug and the pseudo-wooden floors. First, I had to figure out if our vacuum even had an option for not using the bristles. And it did! Go figure.
So, once all settings are correctly set, then I can start the actual work of vacuuming. Seems like the easy part, huh? But no. Because vacuum cleaners come with an electric cord that is something like 200 feet long. Well, at least it feels that long as I’m trying not to back up on it or trip on it or get it tangled around my ankles as I walk the room. I swear it’s alive—some skinny snake with a sneaky cat mentality that wants to get under my feet.
Of course, when I am trying to get to that last quarter of the room, that’s when the cord some how shortens to 2 feet. As I head into that corner, I can feel the resistance as I try to stretch to that last little bit. Then it comes unplugged and I have to find another outlet before finishing. Or not. I mean who’s going to notice, really?
That’s the scary part, though. There are some neat-freaks who would notice; they would notice that the tell-tale vacuum tracks stop before that corner. I had a friend who’s mother actually had a pattern she would expect her daughter to do while vacuuming, and she knew when she didn’t do it because the pattern on the floor wasn’t correct. That’s just wrong on so many levels.
But the artwork that is vacuuming patterns is nothing compared to the things I’ve had to dig out of the vacuum cleaner. Why is it that I can vacuum over a little leaf 20 times and still have to bend down and pick that stupid thing up because the vacuum cleaner won’t suck it up. Yet, go anywhere near a shoe lace or a sock, and I’ll spend the next hour dislodging it from the bristles. I’ve turned many an ankle sock into a tube sock. It’s a gift, really.
And don’t even get me started on using the accessories. I’ve hit myself in the head so many times from trying to suck cobwebs out of ceiling corners that now I just say “Hello Charlotte” and move on. Besides, changing the machine into hoses and tubes is a lot like work.
So, I hate vacuuming. It’s only fair—it obviously doesn’t like me, so I don’t like it back. Luckily, my hubby doesn’t seem to mind, and if I put it off long enough, he’ll get fed up and do the vacuuming. He seems to actually enjoy it. And I’ve noticed that there’s always a lovely pattern in the carpet when he’s done.
Ah, there’s the rub. Vacuuming. I’m the world’s worst vacuumer. And no, I’m not going to use the obvious description, I’ll just say that I stink at it.
It seems easy enough. Push the machine around the floor and violá! Clean floors for casual seating. But it’s not that easy. It has to be set for the correct height; otherwise I either don’t pick up enough or I feel like I’m pushing a tree stump around the room. Plus, apparently there are rules about whether I can use the bristles on certain surfaces. I’ve been warned and threatened not to use the “bristle setting” on the area rug and the pseudo-wooden floors. First, I had to figure out if our vacuum even had an option for not using the bristles. And it did! Go figure.
So, once all settings are correctly set, then I can start the actual work of vacuuming. Seems like the easy part, huh? But no. Because vacuum cleaners come with an electric cord that is something like 200 feet long. Well, at least it feels that long as I’m trying not to back up on it or trip on it or get it tangled around my ankles as I walk the room. I swear it’s alive—some skinny snake with a sneaky cat mentality that wants to get under my feet.
Of course, when I am trying to get to that last quarter of the room, that’s when the cord some how shortens to 2 feet. As I head into that corner, I can feel the resistance as I try to stretch to that last little bit. Then it comes unplugged and I have to find another outlet before finishing. Or not. I mean who’s going to notice, really?
That’s the scary part, though. There are some neat-freaks who would notice; they would notice that the tell-tale vacuum tracks stop before that corner. I had a friend who’s mother actually had a pattern she would expect her daughter to do while vacuuming, and she knew when she didn’t do it because the pattern on the floor wasn’t correct. That’s just wrong on so many levels.
But the artwork that is vacuuming patterns is nothing compared to the things I’ve had to dig out of the vacuum cleaner. Why is it that I can vacuum over a little leaf 20 times and still have to bend down and pick that stupid thing up because the vacuum cleaner won’t suck it up. Yet, go anywhere near a shoe lace or a sock, and I’ll spend the next hour dislodging it from the bristles. I’ve turned many an ankle sock into a tube sock. It’s a gift, really.
And don’t even get me started on using the accessories. I’ve hit myself in the head so many times from trying to suck cobwebs out of ceiling corners that now I just say “Hello Charlotte” and move on. Besides, changing the machine into hoses and tubes is a lot like work.
So, I hate vacuuming. It’s only fair—it obviously doesn’t like me, so I don’t like it back. Luckily, my hubby doesn’t seem to mind, and if I put it off long enough, he’ll get fed up and do the vacuuming. He seems to actually enjoy it. And I’ve noticed that there’s always a lovely pattern in the carpet when he’s done.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Rip Roarin' Fun
What's better than hanging out with friends, eating a lot of food that's bad for you, drinking a lot of stuff that's not much better, and putting out grease fires on the grill from the fatty hamburger patties? Not a whole helluva lot.
Unless of course, you also get to eat birthday cake, that's a bonus. The lady at the bakery did a wonderful job with Al's cake. She didn't have the Grim Reaper I originally wanted, so she put everything else she had on the cake. It's a little over kill, but that's what's fun about birthday cakes. Here's a picture:
The best part was everyone running around with black teeth from the frosting.
I got some great tips and food ideas from you guys, so I'm going to return the favor by giving you the recipe for the party favorite, Chocolate Trifle.
This never fails. I've heard that chocolate is an aphrodisiac, and it must be because I had a lot of people telling me they loved me Saturday night. And no, I don't think it was the beer and/or scotch talking. They were telling me that as they were licking the chocolate off their plates.
So, here's how it's done. You'll need:
1 package brownie mix
1/2 cup of Kahlua
1 large carton of Cool Whip
3 small packages of Chocolate Instant Pudding
1 bag of Heath toffee bits (or you can break up 6 Heath/Skor bars)
Put the Cool Whip in the fridge the day before you need it. You want it soft enough that it is easy to spread.
Bake your favorite brownies. While they are still warm, poke holes all over and pour 1/2 cup of Kahlua over them. (I forgot to do this but no one seemed to notice, so it's optional).
Make up 3 packages of Instant Chocolate Pudding. Don't chill, just mix it up. I usually do this in stages and transfer to a big bowl because it's just easier to mix them one at a time.
Get out the toffee bits and prepare to assemble!
In a trifle dish (or a bowl, a trifle dish is just prettier because you can see the layers), layer as follows:
1/3 of the brownies
1/3 of the total pudding
1/3 of the Cool Whip
A big ol' handful of Heath toffee bits
Do this 3 times (you may have pudding, Cool Whip, and Heath bits left over--that's the cook's serving). (Tip: Put the brownies and the pudding around the edge first so that it's easily seen, then fill in the center. But for the Cool Whip, I think it works easier to put a huge blob in the center and push it to the edge with the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula.) End with the Cool Whip and toffee sprinkled on top. Chill in the fridge. Tip: So that you don't lose any toffee or Cool Whip to the plastic wrap, stick toothpicks around the top so that the wrap rests on the toothpicks and not on the top of the trifle.
Decadent and delicious.
Unless of course, you also get to eat birthday cake, that's a bonus. The lady at the bakery did a wonderful job with Al's cake. She didn't have the Grim Reaper I originally wanted, so she put everything else she had on the cake. It's a little over kill, but that's what's fun about birthday cakes. Here's a picture:
The best part was everyone running around with black teeth from the frosting.
I got some great tips and food ideas from you guys, so I'm going to return the favor by giving you the recipe for the party favorite, Chocolate Trifle.
This never fails. I've heard that chocolate is an aphrodisiac, and it must be because I had a lot of people telling me they loved me Saturday night. And no, I don't think it was the beer and/or scotch talking. They were telling me that as they were licking the chocolate off their plates.
So, here's how it's done. You'll need:
1 package brownie mix
1/2 cup of Kahlua
1 large carton of Cool Whip
3 small packages of Chocolate Instant Pudding
1 bag of Heath toffee bits (or you can break up 6 Heath/Skor bars)
Put the Cool Whip in the fridge the day before you need it. You want it soft enough that it is easy to spread.
Bake your favorite brownies. While they are still warm, poke holes all over and pour 1/2 cup of Kahlua over them. (I forgot to do this but no one seemed to notice, so it's optional).
Make up 3 packages of Instant Chocolate Pudding. Don't chill, just mix it up. I usually do this in stages and transfer to a big bowl because it's just easier to mix them one at a time.
Get out the toffee bits and prepare to assemble!
In a trifle dish (or a bowl, a trifle dish is just prettier because you can see the layers), layer as follows:
1/3 of the brownies
1/3 of the total pudding
1/3 of the Cool Whip
A big ol' handful of Heath toffee bits
Do this 3 times (you may have pudding, Cool Whip, and Heath bits left over--that's the cook's serving). (Tip: Put the brownies and the pudding around the edge first so that it's easily seen, then fill in the center. But for the Cool Whip, I think it works easier to put a huge blob in the center and push it to the edge with the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula.) End with the Cool Whip and toffee sprinkled on top. Chill in the fridge. Tip: So that you don't lose any toffee or Cool Whip to the plastic wrap, stick toothpicks around the top so that the wrap rests on the toothpicks and not on the top of the trifle.
Decadent and delicious.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Oh, the Joys of Homeowning
I skipped down the stairs to the basement last week to get Al’s birthday presents and stepped on something wet.
Well, that’s weird. Why would there be water right here? And why does this basement smell musty?
Yep, water in the basement. Never a good sign, but apparently a very common one, especially with the amount of rain we’ve had. I used to love stormy, rainy days, but now I start hyperventilating if it gets cloudy.
We’ve had that musty smell before, but I never noticed wet carpet before. Al and I spent the evening on our hands and knees, checking for wet spots. Luckily, there were only 2 areas where it was wet, but that’s 2 too many. Al thinks what’s happening is that the ground is so saturated that the water is coming up through any cracks in the basement floor. There’s nothing coming through the walls or windows.
This must be a popular problem because the basement dudes can’t come for another month! I knew this was the “busy season” but a month? Oh well. This company was recommended to us and seem to be worth the wait. In the meantime, we’ve put more dirt around the house and added extension down spouts to the drain pipes to get the water away from the house.
But this has to be done and as quickly as possible. Al will start talking to his assignment guy in November, so we could be moving by next Spring. That means the house will go up for sale and we still have to replace the kitchen counters and sink.
Dollar signs! I see nothing but dollar signs in front of me!
This is the first house we’ve owned in 10 years, and we knew we’d be selling it in a few years, such is the life of a military family. But it feels like ever since we moved in we’ve been getting ready to sell again. It’s all stuff that the “experts” say will improve the value—the master bath (updates with tile floor), the kitchen (new floor and still-to-come counter tops), nice lawn (new sprinkler system)—but it’s expensive enough without redoing the basement floor.
I blame all these real estate shows. It’s not enough to have a clean home with sound structure, you have to have a designer showcase with granite counter tops, tile floors, stainless steel appliances, wood floors or spotless carpet, perfect floor plan, perfect size, perfect yard, blah blah blah. Because heaven forbid a prospective buyer thinks they might have to paint or change the house to their own liking. I’m a little testy on the subject, can you tell?
But what am I doing sitting here? I still have a party to get ready for this weekend. We’ve had about 30 people say they’re coming. That’s a lot of spinach balls and jalapeno poppers, so I better get busy. Oh, but I did order the cake. It has the grim reaper on it saying, “Relax. I’m just here for the cake.” Kind of cute, huh?
Well, that’s weird. Why would there be water right here? And why does this basement smell musty?
Yep, water in the basement. Never a good sign, but apparently a very common one, especially with the amount of rain we’ve had. I used to love stormy, rainy days, but now I start hyperventilating if it gets cloudy.
We’ve had that musty smell before, but I never noticed wet carpet before. Al and I spent the evening on our hands and knees, checking for wet spots. Luckily, there were only 2 areas where it was wet, but that’s 2 too many. Al thinks what’s happening is that the ground is so saturated that the water is coming up through any cracks in the basement floor. There’s nothing coming through the walls or windows.
This must be a popular problem because the basement dudes can’t come for another month! I knew this was the “busy season” but a month? Oh well. This company was recommended to us and seem to be worth the wait. In the meantime, we’ve put more dirt around the house and added extension down spouts to the drain pipes to get the water away from the house.
But this has to be done and as quickly as possible. Al will start talking to his assignment guy in November, so we could be moving by next Spring. That means the house will go up for sale and we still have to replace the kitchen counters and sink.
Dollar signs! I see nothing but dollar signs in front of me!
This is the first house we’ve owned in 10 years, and we knew we’d be selling it in a few years, such is the life of a military family. But it feels like ever since we moved in we’ve been getting ready to sell again. It’s all stuff that the “experts” say will improve the value—the master bath (updates with tile floor), the kitchen (new floor and still-to-come counter tops), nice lawn (new sprinkler system)—but it’s expensive enough without redoing the basement floor.
I blame all these real estate shows. It’s not enough to have a clean home with sound structure, you have to have a designer showcase with granite counter tops, tile floors, stainless steel appliances, wood floors or spotless carpet, perfect floor plan, perfect size, perfect yard, blah blah blah. Because heaven forbid a prospective buyer thinks they might have to paint or change the house to their own liking. I’m a little testy on the subject, can you tell?
But what am I doing sitting here? I still have a party to get ready for this weekend. We’ve had about 30 people say they’re coming. That’s a lot of spinach balls and jalapeno poppers, so I better get busy. Oh, but I did order the cake. It has the grim reaper on it saying, “Relax. I’m just here for the cake.” Kind of cute, huh?
Monday, August 13, 2007
You're too nice
And I don't deserve any of you! Thanks for the support and understanding.
This has been a very busy weekend. Al's birthday was Saturday, and he turned the big 4-0. I was loving and supportive because I had already been there done that. Ah hell, no I wasn't. I think my first words to him that day were something like, "So, do you feel old?" I almost commented on all the gray hair, but I had already told him I find that sexy, so it wouldn't have worked to tease him with that. However, the groaning voices when he gets out of the recliner were fair game. When did that start? When did we have to grunt and sigh as we got out of a comfy chair?
It's not really a birth"day" for Al, it's more like an extended celebration. Last Thursday we went to a "mega scotch tasting" at our favorite pub, The Dell, and this coming weekend we're having his actual birthday party. I had been trying to plan a surprise party for him at the Dell, but the guys at work told Al they were ready for another scotch tasting party at the house, so Al came home and announced we were having a party. Apparently, in addition to wanting to try some of the various alcohol offerings, they also requested their favorite foods from previous gatherings. Cheeky bastards. But of course, it's a compliment, and that works for me.
Here are a few pictures from the last few days.
We've had so much rain; we get heavy thunderstorms every couple of days.
The Mega Tasting at the Dell is a yearly party they have where for $100 you can taste the expensive stuff they hide in the back. It's very generous because there wasn't a bottle there that cost less than $200, and several were rare or really really really hard to get. Al tasted 12 single malts that night (I'm the designated driver, so I was swimming in Diet Coke). I think his favorite was the 35-year-old Glenfarclass, but I don't remember for sure. Plus, they have a new chef, so the "cleansing palate" platters were full of really good olives, chocolates, and cheese. Eating is a good thing at a tasting. I took a couple of pictures to give you an idea what it's like.
In the meantime, I'm reading Poltergeist by Kat Richardson. It's pretty good, good enough that I don't want to put it down. It's the second in the series, but I didn't read the first one and I think it would have helped a little. The book is about a private detective who died for 2 minutes and when she came back she was able to see "the grey" or that area between life and death, so it took me a little bit to understand what was going on since all of that was set up and created in the first book. In this one she is investigating a research group who has created a ghost, but when one of the team members dies, she has to find out if it was the ghost or a human being. Oh, and it's set in Seattle, so I'm enjoying descriptions of the area.
This has been a very busy weekend. Al's birthday was Saturday, and he turned the big 4-0. I was loving and supportive because I had already been there done that. Ah hell, no I wasn't. I think my first words to him that day were something like, "So, do you feel old?" I almost commented on all the gray hair, but I had already told him I find that sexy, so it wouldn't have worked to tease him with that. However, the groaning voices when he gets out of the recliner were fair game. When did that start? When did we have to grunt and sigh as we got out of a comfy chair?
It's not really a birth"day" for Al, it's more like an extended celebration. Last Thursday we went to a "mega scotch tasting" at our favorite pub, The Dell, and this coming weekend we're having his actual birthday party. I had been trying to plan a surprise party for him at the Dell, but the guys at work told Al they were ready for another scotch tasting party at the house, so Al came home and announced we were having a party. Apparently, in addition to wanting to try some of the various alcohol offerings, they also requested their favorite foods from previous gatherings. Cheeky bastards. But of course, it's a compliment, and that works for me.
Here are a few pictures from the last few days.
We've had so much rain; we get heavy thunderstorms every couple of days.
The Mega Tasting at the Dell is a yearly party they have where for $100 you can taste the expensive stuff they hide in the back. It's very generous because there wasn't a bottle there that cost less than $200, and several were rare or really really really hard to get. Al tasted 12 single malts that night (I'm the designated driver, so I was swimming in Diet Coke). I think his favorite was the 35-year-old Glenfarclass, but I don't remember for sure. Plus, they have a new chef, so the "cleansing palate" platters were full of really good olives, chocolates, and cheese. Eating is a good thing at a tasting. I took a couple of pictures to give you an idea what it's like.
In the meantime, I'm reading Poltergeist by Kat Richardson. It's pretty good, good enough that I don't want to put it down. It's the second in the series, but I didn't read the first one and I think it would have helped a little. The book is about a private detective who died for 2 minutes and when she came back she was able to see "the grey" or that area between life and death, so it took me a little bit to understand what was going on since all of that was set up and created in the first book. In this one she is investigating a research group who has created a ghost, but when one of the team members dies, she has to find out if it was the ghost or a human being. Oh, and it's set in Seattle, so I'm enjoying descriptions of the area.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Hello?
The reluctant blogger lightly raps on the partially opened door. As the door opens wider, she peers around it, then cautiously moves into the empty room.
It’s dark and smells musty from nonuse. The only light is coming from the thin rays of sun shining through the slats of the window blind and the steady heartbeat of the sleep light on the laptop, sitting on the desk. As she walks towards the desk, she finds the squeaky spot on the floor, ruining her attempt to sneak up on the sleeping computer.
No turning back now, so she slides the chair out from the desk and sits down. She blows the dust away from the top of the laptop and opens it. The light from the computer surrounds her, encircling her and the keyboard in the same glow. She brings up the blank post page for her blog and stares at all the white space, wondering what to do with it. An optimist would see a blank canvas, eagerly awaiting creative inspiration. A pessimist would see the same blank canvas as taunting and intimidating, daring her to be creative. And the optimistically pessimistic person has great hopes for the blank canvas, but struggles to fill it, doubting herself along the way.
But the blog has become a great link to friends who live far away and to new friends who live even farther, so she can’t just stop completely. Taking breaks is helpful, a breather to focus on other blank canvases ready to be worked on. She remembers her New Year’s Resolution was to find balance—balance the many tasks she needs to do with the projects she wants to do.
Then the reluctant blogger begins to type. More light filters through the blinds, and the sound of clicking and tapping fills the once empty room.
It’s dark and smells musty from nonuse. The only light is coming from the thin rays of sun shining through the slats of the window blind and the steady heartbeat of the sleep light on the laptop, sitting on the desk. As she walks towards the desk, she finds the squeaky spot on the floor, ruining her attempt to sneak up on the sleeping computer.
No turning back now, so she slides the chair out from the desk and sits down. She blows the dust away from the top of the laptop and opens it. The light from the computer surrounds her, encircling her and the keyboard in the same glow. She brings up the blank post page for her blog and stares at all the white space, wondering what to do with it. An optimist would see a blank canvas, eagerly awaiting creative inspiration. A pessimist would see the same blank canvas as taunting and intimidating, daring her to be creative. And the optimistically pessimistic person has great hopes for the blank canvas, but struggles to fill it, doubting herself along the way.
But the blog has become a great link to friends who live far away and to new friends who live even farther, so she can’t just stop completely. Taking breaks is helpful, a breather to focus on other blank canvases ready to be worked on. She remembers her New Year’s Resolution was to find balance—balance the many tasks she needs to do with the projects she wants to do.
Then the reluctant blogger begins to type. More light filters through the blinds, and the sound of clicking and tapping fills the once empty room.
Monday, July 30, 2007
In the Meantime
Just letting ya know that I'm taking a little time off. I'm feelin' a little puny, nothing really awful, just enough to slow me down some. But I didn't want anyone to think I had just disappeared.
In the meantime, here are those photos from the dog show. We were lucky and met some really, really nice dog people. Sometimes those shows can be kind of sad because you wonder what kind of life this is for a dog. But the people we talked to loved their dogs and loved to talk about them.
Can you find the puppy?
Basset--Isn't he beautiful?!? He serenaded us, too. Arooooooooooo!
Clumber Spaniel, named Chilly.
Spinone Italiano I really love these dogs. This is Darby.
Old English Sheepdog. There are eyes under there somewhere. Makes you wonder how they guard sheep if they can't see them.
PBGV This is what our dog was--great hound dogs. And so cute.
In the meantime, here are those photos from the dog show. We were lucky and met some really, really nice dog people. Sometimes those shows can be kind of sad because you wonder what kind of life this is for a dog. But the people we talked to loved their dogs and loved to talk about them.
Can you find the puppy?
Basset--Isn't he beautiful?!? He serenaded us, too. Arooooooooooo!
Clumber Spaniel, named Chilly.
Spinone Italiano I really love these dogs. This is Darby.
Old English Sheepdog. There are eyes under there somewhere. Makes you wonder how they guard sheep if they can't see them.
PBGV This is what our dog was--great hound dogs. And so cute.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Just Thinking Out Loud
It’s back-to-school shopping time! I know it’s scary to hear, but I loooove back-to-school shopping. The pens! The notebooks! The folders! The organizational tools! I’m just salivating. I want to be buried in an office supply store, then I’m going to come back and haunt it so I can write with all the pens in all the journals.
The only drawback to back-to-school shopping is that you have to fight the crowds of kids and stressed out moms. I heard a mom losing it because “you have to have a yellow spiral notebook. It has to be yellow!” Sometimes those school lists are a little silly. In San Antonio, a friend of mine would get so frustrated because of the school’s detailed list of exactly what type, brand, color, size, everything that the child should bring to school. They have to all be the same because we don’t won’t anyone to feel inferior because they couldn’t afford the Pirates of the Caribbean folder. Plus, heaven forbid anyone should show any sense of individuality.
Apparently there’s a lot more to school supply peer pressure than I realized.
-----------------------------------
I watched Beowulf and Grendel this weekend, too. I didn’t rent it because of some great need for literature and epic poetry. I got it because Gerard Butler and Tony Curran are in it.
And yes, they look great and did a great job. Well, they did as well as they could with what they’d been given. And the scenery is amazing, and I’m sure it was a very difficult movie to make, but it doesn’t matter a flip if it’s boring. And if I want to look at amazing scenery, I can do that on Globe Trekker. SPOILER: I’m going to talk about what happens, so if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to know, then you might want to skip this next part.
It’s not that I found the movie boring, which I did, or that I couldn’t understand half the things they said, which I couldn’t, or that I’m one who thinks that movie adaptations have to be loyal to the text, which I don’t. It’s that this Beowulf is a kind post-modern deconstruction that just drives me batty. It’s been years and years and years since I’ve read Beowulf, but this movie seems to have a pretty contemporary view, while keeping the blood and gore of the violent time.
Grendel isn’t a monster and descendant of Cain who kills and wreaks havoc on the Danes, but rather a misunderstood orphan who saw his father killed, so he kills only those who have hurt him. We still have to kill him, but isn’t it sad that we have to do that?
Hell, Beowulf doesn’t even kill Grendel. He kills himself by cutting his own arm off, rather than Beowulf ripping if off like the mighty man and strong hero he is.
And I don’t remember a witch who had Grendel’s son. And I thought Hrothgar was supposed to be a great king and Beowulf’s mentor and teacher, not some guilty wimp who knows why they are being attacked but won’t confess it to anyone. And I really don’t remember Grendel being referred to as “a fucking troll.”
But, that’s just me. That’s why they don’t ask me to make movies.
---------------------------
Speaking of Tony Curran, he's going to be Pentheus to Alan Cumming's Dionysus in Euripide's The Bacchae for the National Theatre of Scotland. They're opening in Edinburgh on 11 August, running through the 18th, then onto Glasgow and London. I would love to see it!
On second thought, maybe I wouldn't. I blush easily and this is a play that should result in a lot of blushing. It's so . . . well, it's . . . um . . . it's Greek. There's vengeance and blood and gore and debauchery and sexual repression and orgies and cross-dressing and ripping of limbs, and well, you just don't want to piss off a god. If I went, I would only distract the actors because I would be that red glow in the dark.
I would guess they'll be amazing in this. I can't imagine a better Dionysus than Alan Cumming.
Oh well. Maybe they'll tape it and put it on PBS? Yeah, I don't think so either.
--------------------------------
Ace of Cakes is back for a new season! I love this show. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a reality-based show on the Food Network featuring Duff, ultra cool cake maker and his talented friends at Charm City Cakes. They make the most amazing cakes. I don’t know how good they taste, but who cares. One of the multi-talented people on that show is Geof. He’s my favorite. He reminds me so much of my good friend in Louisiana, but he writes poetry instead of makes cakes. I always miss him after I watch this show. Here’s one of the amazing cakes they’ve made—the Sutton Hoo cake. Cool, huh?
---------------------------------
I had a doctor’s appointment the other day—just a yearly check-up. The doc asked if I have any concerns, and I said yes, I’m having a hard time controlling my anger. I keep losing my temper and then I sulk. I don’t even like to be around me! She just looked at the file and I braced myself for it: “Well, you are in your 40s now.”
Well Hell’s Bells! I know that. So, it’s hormones, huh? How does she know? Maybe it’s a brain tumor. Maybe I’m borderline psychotic/manic depressive. Maybe I’ve developed multiple personalities and I have the “evil Kell” and the “sulky, wimpy Kell.” Maybe it’s not me at all! Maybe it really is everybody else! Maybe I really should be pissed off! *pant pant pant*
I think I need some chocolate. Young’s Double Chocolate Stout should do nicely.
I think I'll do that "blog rating" now. I bet I'm up to an R with this post!
The only drawback to back-to-school shopping is that you have to fight the crowds of kids and stressed out moms. I heard a mom losing it because “you have to have a yellow spiral notebook. It has to be yellow!” Sometimes those school lists are a little silly. In San Antonio, a friend of mine would get so frustrated because of the school’s detailed list of exactly what type, brand, color, size, everything that the child should bring to school. They have to all be the same because we don’t won’t anyone to feel inferior because they couldn’t afford the Pirates of the Caribbean folder. Plus, heaven forbid anyone should show any sense of individuality.
Apparently there’s a lot more to school supply peer pressure than I realized.
-----------------------------------
I watched Beowulf and Grendel this weekend, too. I didn’t rent it because of some great need for literature and epic poetry. I got it because Gerard Butler and Tony Curran are in it.
And yes, they look great and did a great job. Well, they did as well as they could with what they’d been given. And the scenery is amazing, and I’m sure it was a very difficult movie to make, but it doesn’t matter a flip if it’s boring. And if I want to look at amazing scenery, I can do that on Globe Trekker. SPOILER: I’m going to talk about what happens, so if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to know, then you might want to skip this next part.
It’s not that I found the movie boring, which I did, or that I couldn’t understand half the things they said, which I couldn’t, or that I’m one who thinks that movie adaptations have to be loyal to the text, which I don’t. It’s that this Beowulf is a kind post-modern deconstruction that just drives me batty. It’s been years and years and years since I’ve read Beowulf, but this movie seems to have a pretty contemporary view, while keeping the blood and gore of the violent time.
Grendel isn’t a monster and descendant of Cain who kills and wreaks havoc on the Danes, but rather a misunderstood orphan who saw his father killed, so he kills only those who have hurt him. We still have to kill him, but isn’t it sad that we have to do that?
Hell, Beowulf doesn’t even kill Grendel. He kills himself by cutting his own arm off, rather than Beowulf ripping if off like the mighty man and strong hero he is.
And I don’t remember a witch who had Grendel’s son. And I thought Hrothgar was supposed to be a great king and Beowulf’s mentor and teacher, not some guilty wimp who knows why they are being attacked but won’t confess it to anyone. And I really don’t remember Grendel being referred to as “a fucking troll.”
But, that’s just me. That’s why they don’t ask me to make movies.
---------------------------
Speaking of Tony Curran, he's going to be Pentheus to Alan Cumming's Dionysus in Euripide's The Bacchae for the National Theatre of Scotland. They're opening in Edinburgh on 11 August, running through the 18th, then onto Glasgow and London. I would love to see it!
On second thought, maybe I wouldn't. I blush easily and this is a play that should result in a lot of blushing. It's so . . . well, it's . . . um . . . it's Greek. There's vengeance and blood and gore and debauchery and sexual repression and orgies and cross-dressing and ripping of limbs, and well, you just don't want to piss off a god. If I went, I would only distract the actors because I would be that red glow in the dark.
I would guess they'll be amazing in this. I can't imagine a better Dionysus than Alan Cumming.
Oh well. Maybe they'll tape it and put it on PBS? Yeah, I don't think so either.
--------------------------------
Ace of Cakes is back for a new season! I love this show. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a reality-based show on the Food Network featuring Duff, ultra cool cake maker and his talented friends at Charm City Cakes. They make the most amazing cakes. I don’t know how good they taste, but who cares. One of the multi-talented people on that show is Geof. He’s my favorite. He reminds me so much of my good friend in Louisiana, but he writes poetry instead of makes cakes. I always miss him after I watch this show. Here’s one of the amazing cakes they’ve made—the Sutton Hoo cake. Cool, huh?
---------------------------------
I had a doctor’s appointment the other day—just a yearly check-up. The doc asked if I have any concerns, and I said yes, I’m having a hard time controlling my anger. I keep losing my temper and then I sulk. I don’t even like to be around me! She just looked at the file and I braced myself for it: “Well, you are in your 40s now.”
Well Hell’s Bells! I know that. So, it’s hormones, huh? How does she know? Maybe it’s a brain tumor. Maybe I’m borderline psychotic/manic depressive. Maybe I’ve developed multiple personalities and I have the “evil Kell” and the “sulky, wimpy Kell.” Maybe it’s not me at all! Maybe it really is everybody else! Maybe I really should be pissed off! *pant pant pant*
I think I need some chocolate. Young’s Double Chocolate Stout should do nicely.
I think I'll do that "blog rating" now. I bet I'm up to an R with this post!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Flower Quiz
| I am a |
Mischief is your middle name, but your first is friend. You are quite the prankster who loves to make other people laugh.
I got this from Michelle. I'm a sucker for these things, although I'm not much of a prankster. I joke around but I'm not big on tricks. Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids! Sorry, couldn't resist. What kind of flower are you?
No Harry Potter Book Spoilers
Mostly it was a Harry Potter weekend. Our friend’s retirement ceremony and party went well and we had a great time at the dog show, but basically, it was all about Harry.
I did read the book as soon as I got it because, like everyone else, I wanted to know what happens and I wanted to read it before someone let something slip and ruined all the fun and anticipation. I love anticipation.
So, what do you say when you don’t want to really talk about the book so you won’t give anything away, but you want to say something to express your views? How about: I wasn’t disappointed. And just ask Al, I’m hard to please. I also didn’t think the book was too surprising, but then, we have had something like 15 years of theories and thinking on this. I feel satisfied and won’t be craving another Harry book and wishing she hadn’t ended the series (although I didn't need an epilogue to reinforce that feeling). I did hit a point a little more than half-way through that I thought Oh just get on with it! These books are written for a younger audience and maybe they have a better attention span than I do, but I think that Ms. Rowling lingers a little too long sometimes and drags out scenes that could be wrapped up a little quicker. But that’s just me. I couldn’t get through the Lord of the Rings trilogy because I got bored with 3 pages of scenery description.
I think one of the reasons it took so long was that there were a lot of characters to bring back and events/relationships/secrets to close. It’s the 7th book! We don’t want to leave without knowing what happened to . . .well . . . interject your favorite character here.
Yes, I cried. I couldn’t help it. I’ve been a little weepy anyway—I cried through my friend’s retirement ceremony, I cried watching a slide photo presentation of the retreat that the kids at our church went on this summer, and I cried during some lame commercial on TV. I expected deaths in this book (they are at war after all), but I didn’t realize I would take it so hard. But worth it! I did get a little confused near the end, but I think that’s because I was so anxious to know what was going on that I started to skim a head a little. But you can’t skim these books—you’ll miss some little thing that will end up important later.
I loved this series and I got caught up in all the excitement early on and spent a lot of time discussing what might happen. However, by the last couple of books, I turned off that part of my brain and just read for the pleasure of it. It made them much more enjoyable for me that way.
But, if anyone wants to discuss Snape, let me know! (heh heh)
------------------------------------
I took time out of the reading to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix this weekend also. I can’t believe I wasted 2 ½ hours there when I could have been reading.
OK, it wasn’t that bad, but this definitely was not one of the best of the films. It was so slow and plodding. This book is an emotional turning point for Harry so it’s not going to be constantly full of action like the others, but a little energy would have been nice. It was as if the director said, “Ok everyone, we’re going to have long pauses after each character speaks and sometimes even in the middle of your own lines.” The movie shines when there’s stuff going on, such as Harry teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and the dueling in the end, but it crawls the rest of the time.
I thought it was pretty obvious that this one was written by someone different than the last 4. Thank goodness Steve Kloves will return to write 6 and hopefully 7. I always thought Kloves did a great job pulling out what really seemed important in the books, while keeping to the spirit of them. There are always things that can’t be filmed from the books (I know, I know. They’d be over 4 hours long if they didn’t cut some things out), but I thought this movie left out some really cool stuff and changed some things around that I don’t think made the story better. Shorter, obviously, but not better. It didn’t seem quite as cohesive as the other films. And the ending was horrible. And there was a lot panting and heavy breathing in this movie, and it had nothing to do with the kissing scene. It was like Harry had asthma or something.
But this was definitely one of the best cast movies. Imelda Staunton as Umbridge and Evanna Lynch as Luna are wonderful and brilliant.
Anyway, I’m a little biased because I still consider the 3rd movie (Prisoner of Azkaban) the best. I even liked the 3rd book best, too. And, who knows. People who haven’t read the books might of thought this movie was brilliant. It’s easier to be harsh when you know where the plot and action comes from.
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I’ll post some pics from the dog show later. I need to recover from magical overload.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
We Interrupt These Posts
Hey! Did you know that the last Harry Potter book is coming out on Saturday?
Well, of course you did, unless you live under a rock. It's all over the Internet, the news, the newspapers, just about everywhere. And because it's every where, I don't want to take any chances of having some party pooper spoil the whole thing by reading something or hearing something before I read it for myself. Even my emailed headlines of the New York Times had a review of the book today. No! I don't want to know anything!
So, by tomorrow, I'll be off-line for a few days. Amazon will be sending the book Saturday, so I'll settle into my favorite reading chair and read about the final battle. Final. *Sniff* Over. Kaput. *Sniff*
Oh well. First, I'm going to a dog show and a party for a friend's retirement. The sacrifices I make.
Happy reading everyone.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
A New Day
Thanks everyone for the encouragement.
Al's going out of town in a couple of weeks, so I'm looking around for some place to go. My friends don't understand why I have to actually leave--you have the house to yourself. But if I stay here, I won't do anything but watch tv and clean and think about all the things I need to do around here, which isn't much of a change from every other day.
Then, just when I was feeling pretty low, I got this from Susan!
Very cool, huh? I'm gonna go get that tattoo now.
So, I'm going to pass this on because there are several Rockin' Girls out there.
Lena--If ever there was a Rockin' Girl Blog, it's Lena's. She writes songs and supports her son's rock band, the Valentines, and writes with honesty and humor about her life.
Lisa--The rockin' smarts blog. Politics, intelligence and photography; I always find something thought-provoking on her blog.
Chelle--The rockin' mom blog. Chelle's had some rough times, but she stays strong and focused, giving her little boy Brendan a strong foundation.
Katie--The rockin' hilarious blog. There's always something to give you a chuckle here. Another blog where you know what you see is what she is--funny and strong.
Michelle--The rockin' transcendental blog. Want to see the most beautiful photographs ever? Want to read about a woman's love of life and keeping everything and everyone around her healthy? Then head on over to Michelle's. There's always something interesting to read and see.
Queen--The rockin' best-written blog. There are a lot of intelligent, funny and well written blogs out there, but Queen's is one of the best. Confident and funny, she always has an interesting take on life.
Peggy--The rockin' world-away blog. Peggy is amazing. In addition to being a gardener, a cook, a great mom, a great wife, an expert on birds and flowers and trees, she dives. There's no way I would strap something on my back and go that far underwater on purpose, but I would live in Scotland like she does. I live vicariously through Peggy.
Betty--Because my mom rocks!
So, there you are gals. Display your award with pride!
Al's going out of town in a couple of weeks, so I'm looking around for some place to go. My friends don't understand why I have to actually leave--you have the house to yourself. But if I stay here, I won't do anything but watch tv and clean and think about all the things I need to do around here, which isn't much of a change from every other day.
Then, just when I was feeling pretty low, I got this from Susan!
Very cool, huh? I'm gonna go get that tattoo now.
So, I'm going to pass this on because there are several Rockin' Girls out there.
Lena--If ever there was a Rockin' Girl Blog, it's Lena's. She writes songs and supports her son's rock band, the Valentines, and writes with honesty and humor about her life.
Lisa--The rockin' smarts blog. Politics, intelligence and photography; I always find something thought-provoking on her blog.
Chelle--The rockin' mom blog. Chelle's had some rough times, but she stays strong and focused, giving her little boy Brendan a strong foundation.
Katie--The rockin' hilarious blog. There's always something to give you a chuckle here. Another blog where you know what you see is what she is--funny and strong.
Michelle--The rockin' transcendental blog. Want to see the most beautiful photographs ever? Want to read about a woman's love of life and keeping everything and everyone around her healthy? Then head on over to Michelle's. There's always something interesting to read and see.
Queen--The rockin' best-written blog. There are a lot of intelligent, funny and well written blogs out there, but Queen's is one of the best. Confident and funny, she always has an interesting take on life.
Peggy--The rockin' world-away blog. Peggy is amazing. In addition to being a gardener, a cook, a great mom, a great wife, an expert on birds and flowers and trees, she dives. There's no way I would strap something on my back and go that far underwater on purpose, but I would live in Scotland like she does. I live vicariously through Peggy.
Betty--Because my mom rocks!
So, there you are gals. Display your award with pride!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
She's a Little Runaway
Am I too old to run away from home? Is there an age limit? Do I have to be a teenager, ending up in a lonely phone booth under a dim street light asking Mom to come and get me before I become the latest victim of the serial killer targeting curly-haired brunettes? Or was that Law and Order?
Any way, there are days I want to be the kind of person who doesn’t care who gets hurt and just runs away. Someone who could just cut off all those ties and think only of myself and my happiness, or at least what I think will make me happy. I’ve been known to drive out to the airport, just to watch the airplanes flying away and think, I have a passport! I could go anywhere!
I have a friend who was frustrated with her life and her marriage, and one night while she was surfing a travel site, daydreaming, a great price popped up on a flight to Hawaii, so she bought it! She just bought it without talking it over with her husband, without getting her family’s opinion, without taking the time to think it over. And she went, too. For a whole two weeks, then came home rejuvenated. I still sit in disbelief and envy of that.
When I mention the possibility of me going away on a trip by myself, I’m met with stony silence. I’m not sure if I’m considered selfish or just downright odd. Or maybe some people just don’t believe I would do it. Years ago, Oprah did a story about women going on “sabbaticals” from their lives. They would do mission work or take a trip or study something they’ve always wanted to do—something that is personal just to them, thereby making them stronger and more confident and better able to share themselves with their loved ones. I thought that was brilliant. But when at a luncheon I related this to a group of young wives and mommies, they looked at me like I had suggested renewing the practice of human sacrifice.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said one young, new mom. “I could never leave my child!”
“Well of course you couldn’t, you silly cow,” I replied. “But wait another 10 or 15 years of being mom and wife, then you start to wonder if that’s all you are. You haven’t had a job in years, and it feels like even Microsoft Word is beyond your skills. You start to remember all those dreams you had when you were younger and wonder how you got to be this age without even trying to achieve them and now you’re terrified that you’re too old and it’s too late. Then those three months at the writer’s retreat will sound pretty darn inviting, let me tell you.”
So, maybe I said that only to myself and then out loud only in the safety of my car. Instead I just let the subject drop. It’s just easier that way. These are the same women who buy every Dr. Phil book that comes out, not to solve their own problems, just to read about other people's problems then sit in judgment.
Back to my quandary. To run away, I have to completely change the kind of person I am and find a way to do it without hurting anyone. I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think I have to find a way to create a world I want to live in while incorporating what’s already here.
Well, hell. Now I feel trapped. Maybe Dr. Phil has a book on that.
Any way, there are days I want to be the kind of person who doesn’t care who gets hurt and just runs away. Someone who could just cut off all those ties and think only of myself and my happiness, or at least what I think will make me happy. I’ve been known to drive out to the airport, just to watch the airplanes flying away and think, I have a passport! I could go anywhere!
I have a friend who was frustrated with her life and her marriage, and one night while she was surfing a travel site, daydreaming, a great price popped up on a flight to Hawaii, so she bought it! She just bought it without talking it over with her husband, without getting her family’s opinion, without taking the time to think it over. And she went, too. For a whole two weeks, then came home rejuvenated. I still sit in disbelief and envy of that.
When I mention the possibility of me going away on a trip by myself, I’m met with stony silence. I’m not sure if I’m considered selfish or just downright odd. Or maybe some people just don’t believe I would do it. Years ago, Oprah did a story about women going on “sabbaticals” from their lives. They would do mission work or take a trip or study something they’ve always wanted to do—something that is personal just to them, thereby making them stronger and more confident and better able to share themselves with their loved ones. I thought that was brilliant. But when at a luncheon I related this to a group of young wives and mommies, they looked at me like I had suggested renewing the practice of human sacrifice.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said one young, new mom. “I could never leave my child!”
“Well of course you couldn’t, you silly cow,” I replied. “But wait another 10 or 15 years of being mom and wife, then you start to wonder if that’s all you are. You haven’t had a job in years, and it feels like even Microsoft Word is beyond your skills. You start to remember all those dreams you had when you were younger and wonder how you got to be this age without even trying to achieve them and now you’re terrified that you’re too old and it’s too late. Then those three months at the writer’s retreat will sound pretty darn inviting, let me tell you.”
So, maybe I said that only to myself and then out loud only in the safety of my car. Instead I just let the subject drop. It’s just easier that way. These are the same women who buy every Dr. Phil book that comes out, not to solve their own problems, just to read about other people's problems then sit in judgment.
Back to my quandary. To run away, I have to completely change the kind of person I am and find a way to do it without hurting anyone. I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think I have to find a way to create a world I want to live in while incorporating what’s already here.
Well, hell. Now I feel trapped. Maybe Dr. Phil has a book on that.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Macbeth, How You've Changed
The Washington Shakespeare Company is performing Macbeth with an all-nude cast.
Huh?
Do the witches start signing “The Age of Aquarius” at the beginning? Have they reset the play in the 60s and turned it into a musical? I can kind of see where Hair and Macbeth can be intertwined. Come to think of it, no I can't.
So, I had to read the article and find out what the “artistic” reason was behind what seems like a stunt to shock audiences and fill theater seats. I admit to being intrigued.
I can kind of see where the director is coming from:
The play's director, Jose Carrasquillo, said he was inspired to create a radically different visual presentation after reading the same histories of the Scottish people that Shakespeare is believed to have read before writing Macbeth. They described "a really tribal, almost animallike clan and society," Carrasquillo said. "I thought it would be amazing to do a show with this feel in mind."
Gottcha. So far so good.
Then he focused on the three witches who open the play. Carrasquillo envisioned them as conjurers who actually bring the players in "Macbeth" to life. So in his version, the actors begin on stage as trees and come to life, naked and dirty, only after the witches make it so.
I like it. I can imagine the characters coming out as the witches say “Fair is foul, and foul is fair./Hover through the fog and filthy air.” That’s an interesting opening for the play, even though it really doesn’t have anything thing to do with the scene or the play. I mean, the witches are more a tool of foreshadowing and prophecy, not creation. But that’s why I’m a reader and not a director.
However, moving on:
At no point are any of the actors covered, except for some mudlike makeup on their bodies. And all 10 performers remain on stage for the entire performance.
I don’t get that. Granted, I tend to overanalyze things, but I think that even though tribal clans may have been the inspiration, Macbeth is too complex to be conveyed by some form of intelligent cavemen. I think that at their core, most of Shakespeare’s plays, besides being written to flatter some member of royalty, define humanity, but I don’t think the play has to be that stripped down (so to speak) to relate that to an audience.
Not that I have a problem watching naked people on stage. I wish I lived in Washington because I would like to see it and make comments from first-hand knowledge rather than assumptions. But alas, ‘tis not to be. For I the new Harry Potter will see.
Huh?
Do the witches start signing “The Age of Aquarius” at the beginning? Have they reset the play in the 60s and turned it into a musical? I can kind of see where Hair and Macbeth can be intertwined. Come to think of it, no I can't.
So, I had to read the article and find out what the “artistic” reason was behind what seems like a stunt to shock audiences and fill theater seats. I admit to being intrigued.
I can kind of see where the director is coming from:
The play's director, Jose Carrasquillo, said he was inspired to create a radically different visual presentation after reading the same histories of the Scottish people that Shakespeare is believed to have read before writing Macbeth. They described "a really tribal, almost animallike clan and society," Carrasquillo said. "I thought it would be amazing to do a show with this feel in mind."
Gottcha. So far so good.
Then he focused on the three witches who open the play. Carrasquillo envisioned them as conjurers who actually bring the players in "Macbeth" to life. So in his version, the actors begin on stage as trees and come to life, naked and dirty, only after the witches make it so.
I like it. I can imagine the characters coming out as the witches say “Fair is foul, and foul is fair./Hover through the fog and filthy air.” That’s an interesting opening for the play, even though it really doesn’t have anything thing to do with the scene or the play. I mean, the witches are more a tool of foreshadowing and prophecy, not creation. But that’s why I’m a reader and not a director.
However, moving on:
At no point are any of the actors covered, except for some mudlike makeup on their bodies. And all 10 performers remain on stage for the entire performance.
I don’t get that. Granted, I tend to overanalyze things, but I think that even though tribal clans may have been the inspiration, Macbeth is too complex to be conveyed by some form of intelligent cavemen. I think that at their core, most of Shakespeare’s plays, besides being written to flatter some member of royalty, define humanity, but I don’t think the play has to be that stripped down (so to speak) to relate that to an audience.
Not that I have a problem watching naked people on stage. I wish I lived in Washington because I would like to see it and make comments from first-hand knowledge rather than assumptions. But alas, ‘tis not to be. For I the new Harry Potter will see.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Because He's Good
Many of you who read this blog also read my brother, Jay's, blog. He's funny, he's intelligent, and he can make some ordinary day seem like an adventure. He also loves sports and writes about that sometimes.
Today, he reviews Jim Gorant's book Fanatic: Ten Things All Sports Fans Should Do Before They Die. I think it's interesting that Jay says that this book is a good read for sports fans and non-sports fans. He should know, Jay is the same way.
Jay has been a sports fanatic since he was a small boy, and his enthusiasm is contagious. When he writes about sports, he makes me wish I was a sports fan. When I watch games with him, his knowledge is unending and his passion is obvious. He explains things to me without dumbing it down or talking down to me, thus making me care about something that I had no idea I could care about. I was just as excited as he was when the Cardinals won the World Series, and I hadn't been following it all year like he had. We don't get together all that often, so it was a real treat to be able to watch that game with him.
I loved going to the Arkansas basketball and football games games together when we where in college. He used to laugh at me echoing him. He'd yell, "Traveling!" and then hear "Traveling!" a second later. Well, I wanted to sound smart, too. After we'd win (and we almost always won, at least home games), all the students and fans would link arms and sing the Mac Davis song, "Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way . . ." Jay can't carry a tune in a bucket, but he'd sing that song with gusto and set the swaying pace.
Those were fun days. We still go to some sports events. We went to a Spurs basketball game when we were both living in San Antonio, and we've gone to several baseball games in the last few years. And yes, he still hears that echo next to him.
So, go on over and read his review of the Gorant book. Jay says that one of the things he likes about the book is how Gorant can tell you why it's great to be a sports fan.
Funny, that's what Jay does every time he writes about sports.
Today, he reviews Jim Gorant's book Fanatic: Ten Things All Sports Fans Should Do Before They Die. I think it's interesting that Jay says that this book is a good read for sports fans and non-sports fans. He should know, Jay is the same way.
Jay has been a sports fanatic since he was a small boy, and his enthusiasm is contagious. When he writes about sports, he makes me wish I was a sports fan. When I watch games with him, his knowledge is unending and his passion is obvious. He explains things to me without dumbing it down or talking down to me, thus making me care about something that I had no idea I could care about. I was just as excited as he was when the Cardinals won the World Series, and I hadn't been following it all year like he had. We don't get together all that often, so it was a real treat to be able to watch that game with him.
I loved going to the Arkansas basketball and football games games together when we where in college. He used to laugh at me echoing him. He'd yell, "Traveling!" and then hear "Traveling!" a second later. Well, I wanted to sound smart, too. After we'd win (and we almost always won, at least home games), all the students and fans would link arms and sing the Mac Davis song, "Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way . . ." Jay can't carry a tune in a bucket, but he'd sing that song with gusto and set the swaying pace.
Those were fun days. We still go to some sports events. We went to a Spurs basketball game when we were both living in San Antonio, and we've gone to several baseball games in the last few years. And yes, he still hears that echo next to him.
So, go on over and read his review of the Gorant book. Jay says that one of the things he likes about the book is how Gorant can tell you why it's great to be a sports fan.
Funny, that's what Jay does every time he writes about sports.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Stretched Beyond Limits
I went to the dentist this morning to get a cap. I have many caps in my mouth, so this is nothing news worthy.
However, this time was different.
First of all, he made it in his office today, so I don't have to go back in a couple of weeks for putting it on. This is a vast improvement because I don't have to screw up my courage and repeat a calming mantra for two different visits.
Second, he used a dental dam. Those are not fun. He had my mouth stretched in all kinds of directions and held that way with shiny, cold rods, all so he could get to that last tooth on the bottom left. It's a trade off--either I get tired of my mouth being forced open and breathing through my nose (thank goodness I wasn't having a bad allergy day) or I hold it open and feel all the cold water, cold air, and debris that flies under my tongue. Sucks either way.
But there was one way cool thing. He offers his patients a thing kind of like virtual reality head gear with goggles and headphones to watch movies or TV with. So, I have headphones to drown out the drilling and something to watch to keep my mind off of what he is doing. I watched HGTV instead of a movie. What if I had to laugh or gasp or something? I probably wouldn't do either with HGTV, so I figured it was a safe bet.
So, all in all, it wasn't such a bad trip. An hour and a half later, I'm done and sitting here typing away on this post and waiting for the anesthetic to wear off. I'm very tingly right now. Think I'll take some aspirin to get ahead of the aches to come. It's always so much fun drinking when half your mouth is numb. Where did I put that bib?
However, this time was different.
First of all, he made it in his office today, so I don't have to go back in a couple of weeks for putting it on. This is a vast improvement because I don't have to screw up my courage and repeat a calming mantra for two different visits.
Second, he used a dental dam. Those are not fun. He had my mouth stretched in all kinds of directions and held that way with shiny, cold rods, all so he could get to that last tooth on the bottom left. It's a trade off--either I get tired of my mouth being forced open and breathing through my nose (thank goodness I wasn't having a bad allergy day) or I hold it open and feel all the cold water, cold air, and debris that flies under my tongue. Sucks either way.
But there was one way cool thing. He offers his patients a thing kind of like virtual reality head gear with goggles and headphones to watch movies or TV with. So, I have headphones to drown out the drilling and something to watch to keep my mind off of what he is doing. I watched HGTV instead of a movie. What if I had to laugh or gasp or something? I probably wouldn't do either with HGTV, so I figured it was a safe bet.
So, all in all, it wasn't such a bad trip. An hour and a half later, I'm done and sitting here typing away on this post and waiting for the anesthetic to wear off. I'm very tingly right now. Think I'll take some aspirin to get ahead of the aches to come. It's always so much fun drinking when half your mouth is numb. Where did I put that bib?
Monday, July 09, 2007
Good Old Days
We had so much fun on Saturday. We went our favorite pub the Dundee Dell and hung out all afternoon. They have a new chef, so they were having an open house with samples of new things they may put on the menu. They also had some new bottles of scotch and new beers they were giving out sample of, so we headed down there. Free food and free booze?!? That's heaven. Actually, I don't know if they were really giving out the free samples of scotch, but since we're pretty well known there now, Mo (the general manager) poured a couple of things for us. One of them was a Little Mill, which was delicious, and one was something really old. Oh, and the beer was a Rogue Irish Lager called Kells. It's made just for me!
And the food was incredible. Fried plantains with black bean/avocado dip, fried risotto in a coconut batter with pineapple coulie on top and burgers and veggie sandwiches, we ate like kings. Oh, and fried green tomatoes, too. It was all really good. I could have eaten a platter of those plantains. Actually, I think I did eat a platter of those plantains.
Usually, I'm designated driver when it comes to things like this because Al is the scotch guy, so I let him taste and I hang out and talk. But this time, it worked out to be my turn. Oh, he had a couple of samples, but he quit early and let me partake.
Some friends came in, a guy that Al works with and his wife and her sister, who was visiting. We sat at the bar and laughed and talked and ate and drank and just had a wonderful time. I had been lamenting to Al that we never hang out and eat and drink with friends any more because all of our friends have kids and don't go out much. I really enjoyed myself.
I should do that more often, I think.
And the food was incredible. Fried plantains with black bean/avocado dip, fried risotto in a coconut batter with pineapple coulie on top and burgers and veggie sandwiches, we ate like kings. Oh, and fried green tomatoes, too. It was all really good. I could have eaten a platter of those plantains. Actually, I think I did eat a platter of those plantains.
Usually, I'm designated driver when it comes to things like this because Al is the scotch guy, so I let him taste and I hang out and talk. But this time, it worked out to be my turn. Oh, he had a couple of samples, but he quit early and let me partake.
Some friends came in, a guy that Al works with and his wife and her sister, who was visiting. We sat at the bar and laughed and talked and ate and drank and just had a wonderful time. I had been lamenting to Al that we never hang out and eat and drink with friends any more because all of our friends have kids and don't go out much. I really enjoyed myself.
I should do that more often, I think.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Gone About As Fer As They Can Go
We had a wonderful 4th in Kansas City. A nice, quiet 4th. The only noise and excitement came from the weather; we got caught in a horrible storm with pea-size hail. Luckily, Al, being the smart and resourceful guy his is, pulled into a car wash and we sat under the shed until it let up. But this is what it looked like driving back to the hotel:
We went to some old favorites and discovered some new ones during this trip.
We went to Lidia's, as usual, and I'm glad we did because I was a little disappointed last time and it was really good this time. I think I love going there so much because we hardly ever go to elegant restaurants and get wine, salads, entrees, and dessert without caring about the cost. It's quite a treat.
We also headed down to the Plaza again so that we could go to the Apple store and check out the new iPhone and The Better Cheddar to pick up some cheese (a Petit Basque and a 1 year old Spanish Mahon). Al was disappointed that I didn't go apeshit over the iPhone. I have a hard time controlling the scroll and hitting the right letters on the notepad. Everytime I tried to type and "i" I would get an "o" and so on. Apparently, this is all my problem because Al thinks it's the most awesome thing ever and would buy one today if I even hinted at a nod in agreement. No bobble head here, baby!
We also went to one of my very favorite stores any where--Pryde's Old Westport. And I think I showed great restraint that all I insisted on buying was an insulated French Press coffee maker. Here are some photos of the store:
New for this trip, we went to Zona Rosa, a "new urbanism" shopping district, to go to O'Dowd's Irish Pub for lunch and Barnes and Noble. It was the nicest, best B&N I've been in. Two stories (with an escalator, thank you very much) of books and books and books. It was hard to leave without burning the credit card.
Also new, we went to Briarcliff Village, which is also a new urbanism development. I had been there before because that's where Urban Arts and Crafts is, but this time we went to Rimonn Liquors. They had our favorite Riesling (Monchhof), which we can never find, so we bought 3 bottles. Here's one of the houses in this "village." Just a humble little home.
Another new thing, especially for Al, was the Harley Davidson Plant. Unfortunately for Al, there were no tours because they were working on the 2008 models. But, the Visitor Center was open and if there's anything that Harley Davidson knows, it's marketing. Don't worry, Al doesn't want a Harley, especially since he bought the new bike. Oh, did I tell you he bought a new motorcycle? Yep. BMW 1200 GS, used.
And finally, on the way home, we stopped by Weston, Missouri, to go to Pirtle winery. We didn't make it to the winery because Al needed to get home, but we did walk around their charming Main Street and go to The Celtic Ranch. I can't wait to go back to Weston. We didn't spend nearly enough time there. I didn't even peek into the antique shops and there was no time to go to the quilt shop. Plus, we have to go back to do some wine tasting and go to the Irish pub. Here are a couple of pictures:
We went to some old favorites and discovered some new ones during this trip.
We went to Lidia's, as usual, and I'm glad we did because I was a little disappointed last time and it was really good this time. I think I love going there so much because we hardly ever go to elegant restaurants and get wine, salads, entrees, and dessert without caring about the cost. It's quite a treat.
We also headed down to the Plaza again so that we could go to the Apple store and check out the new iPhone and The Better Cheddar to pick up some cheese (a Petit Basque and a 1 year old Spanish Mahon). Al was disappointed that I didn't go apeshit over the iPhone. I have a hard time controlling the scroll and hitting the right letters on the notepad. Everytime I tried to type and "i" I would get an "o" and so on. Apparently, this is all my problem because Al thinks it's the most awesome thing ever and would buy one today if I even hinted at a nod in agreement. No bobble head here, baby!
We also went to one of my very favorite stores any where--Pryde's Old Westport. And I think I showed great restraint that all I insisted on buying was an insulated French Press coffee maker. Here are some photos of the store:
New for this trip, we went to Zona Rosa, a "new urbanism" shopping district, to go to O'Dowd's Irish Pub for lunch and Barnes and Noble. It was the nicest, best B&N I've been in. Two stories (with an escalator, thank you very much) of books and books and books. It was hard to leave without burning the credit card.
Also new, we went to Briarcliff Village, which is also a new urbanism development. I had been there before because that's where Urban Arts and Crafts is, but this time we went to Rimonn Liquors. They had our favorite Riesling (Monchhof), which we can never find, so we bought 3 bottles. Here's one of the houses in this "village." Just a humble little home.
Another new thing, especially for Al, was the Harley Davidson Plant. Unfortunately for Al, there were no tours because they were working on the 2008 models. But, the Visitor Center was open and if there's anything that Harley Davidson knows, it's marketing. Don't worry, Al doesn't want a Harley, especially since he bought the new bike. Oh, did I tell you he bought a new motorcycle? Yep. BMW 1200 GS, used.
And finally, on the way home, we stopped by Weston, Missouri, to go to Pirtle winery. We didn't make it to the winery because Al needed to get home, but we did walk around their charming Main Street and go to The Celtic Ranch. I can't wait to go back to Weston. We didn't spend nearly enough time there. I didn't even peek into the antique shops and there was no time to go to the quilt shop. Plus, we have to go back to do some wine tasting and go to the Irish pub. Here are a couple of pictures:
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Remember
This is my least favorite holiday. At Christmas, we are bombarded with people screaming at us to "Remember the reason for the season," yet it's the 4th of July that has lost its focus.Instead of reading editorials or stories about the struggles of our forefathers and why the 4th of July is so important, I read about how terrible it is that the city bans certain fireworks because it's a "rite of passage" for young boys to light fireworks and blow stuff up. And every day there is a new article on where the firework stands are or what kind of spectacular firework show they are planning at the baseball game.
I enjoy fireworks, sort of. And I enjoy the many picnics I've been to and the baseball games and all those things that should heighten our awareness of the holiday, but the kids in my neighborhood have been participating in their rite of passage since the stands opened. Not just firecrackers, but booming, house-shaking explosions. I can't imagine these kids setting off a firework then saying, "That one was for our unalienable rights!"
Need a good reminder of why we celebrate the 4th? Go to my mom's blog. She has a great post on just what is at stake.
Have a happy and safe 4th of July everyone. We're off to Kansas City for a quick trip. I told Al about this great liquor shop with a great selection of whisky, that just happens to be next to a great yarn shop. Everybody's happy.
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