More of That

Generally, I am a little late to the party. Whatever the newest hippest thing I hear about it after the fact.

When I discover something, it's old hat to everyone else. By the time I get to it, I get to experience whatever it is twice - once for myself and then again when I begin talking to everybody about it and comparing notes.

Take the movie "The Godfather". I saw it for the first time the summer I was expecting The Child. It was the Independence Day holiday weekend and AMC was showing a Godfather movie marathon. I was glued to the TV and kept wondering how I'd lived so long without ever having seen those movies. I suddenly got a lot of cultural references.

I saw "Fight Club" for the first time years after it was on at the theatre.

I'm just now reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which was Time magazine's book of the year. In 2004.

Then there's scrapbooking and paper craft. I have lots of supplies and "stuff." I love the "stuff." Stamps and die cuts and scissors that cut in fancy patterns and vellum sheets and all kinds of wonderful paper goodness. I rarely use any of the neat stuff I have because I don't know what to do with it.

The other night I pulled some stuff out and played.


These things were for a silent auction my parents' church had the week before Thanksgiving.

I had more fun than you can imagine. I silenced the internal editor, the critic extreme. Big fun.
(Blogger is arbitrarily turning photos sideways - sorry)
I made chocolate mocha cookie dough that can be sliced and baked.

I made a batch of my grandmother's toffee.


As I do every single time I do anything creative I wonder why I don't do it more often. Flexing the creative muscle, trying something new and doing it for no real reason, is so much fun. Pure all-out good stuff.

The hardest part was leaving the automatic inclination for efficiency, purpose, and perfection at the door. It's never too late to practice that.

November Books

For years Charming Billy by Alice McDermott was on my to read list. It won lots of prizes and I kept seeing it and hearing about it. I can’t tell you how many times I picked the book up, read the dust jacket, and put it down. It sounded good but in a depressing kind of way. When I want depressing, I watch the news, so I’ve never read it.

I don’t know why I picked up Child of My Heart by Alice McDermott and I’m glad I did even though (SPOILER) it doesn’t end right.

I had my issues with it – like this 15 year old Mary Poppins-like girl who children fall in love with and obey and she never loses her temper with them, ever – but overall I enjoyed it very much until the pieces dropped here and hints dropped there began to add to foreshadowing an incident I could have done without. But I always want stories to end with everyone happy, except the bad guy who gets what’s coming to him and learns a valuable lesson in the process. Just like an ABC After School Special.



About three weeks ago I began Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell and I’m still reading it. I don’t know when it’s taken me so long to read a novel; probably when I read Lonesome Dove.

Not that it's boring and I'm having to force myself to wade through it. The opposite – I am thoroughly enjoying this wild ride: the novel is about the resurgence of magic in England – but it is a dense book. Dense as in, it’s 800 pages long, and dense in that I have to keep up with these characters. The prose is wry and has an 1800s air to it. So far, it's a wonderful read - a great, thick book to get lost in. If it just ends right.

Favorite Book: Too soon to call.

Character Who I'd Most Like to Have a Drink With: Jonathan Strange

Thankful

An email making the rounds talks about the heart being full, about drinking from the saucer because the cup overflows.

That's the way I feel. Thanksgiving Day was so nice. Just...lovely. It was everything I want for the day: family, laughing, talking, catching up, sharing, great food, lingering over coffee and dessert, blue skies, and crisp cold weather.








Now that's pretty: honeybaked ham; roasted turkey (the first The Husband cooked and it was out of this world good); homemade dressing; pineapple cheddar casserole; green beans with caramelized onions, shallots, mushrooms, red pepper, and bacon; sweet potato casserole; and roasted asparagus with Parmesan. I'm getting kind of hungry again.


Among other desserts were a praline pumpkin torte and bourbon pecan pie.

My favorite photo from the day:

My mother in law, my mother, and my grandmother, the table cleared, talking over coffee and cake and pie. It reminds me of afternoons spent around my grandmother's table after holiday meals and Sunday dinners, the women talking and catching up. Something about this photo is so evocative of Thanksgiving, a quiet, special holiday where the emphasis is on family, good food and reflecting on grace and blessings.

Good Tidings

"The turkey is in the oven, filling the air with the fragrance of anticipation, and my heart is glad. The pies are cooling on the rack, overflowing with the fruits of the earth, and my heart is full. Conversation, companionship, and conviviality transform the rooms of this beloved home, and my heart is at peace." – Sarah Ban Breathnach

Have a happy and glorious one everybody!

That's One Version

Last week The Child's class watched a movie called The First Thanksgiving. I asked him to tell me about it.

Him: "These people came over on the Specific Ocean --"

Me: "Ah..."

Him: "They sailed for a long time and came to this rock and later after all this stuff they ate dinner. There were 54 Pilgrims and 92 Indians."

Me: "Ah..."



Happy Thanksgiving.

Hide and Watch

My brother was here Halloween weekend, the first time he'd seen the house. He walked in the dining room and raised his eyebrows.

"How on earth are you going to have this done by Thanksgiving?"

"We will," I said with an emphatic head nod.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes. Trust me."

This was what it looked like then:


So you can see why he was skeptical.

Photos I took last night:






With two days to spare.

I'm kind of tired.

These Are the Good Ole Days No. 4

I called my eye doctor the other day to see if my contact lenses were in. Only I accidentally dialed the prefix 453 instead of 455. Almost every number in town starts with one of those two.

When someone who was not the eye doctor’s office answered, I apologized and said I had the wrong number.

“It’s 455,” she said.

"Oh. Thank you!"

"Sure thing."

She was so pleasant and I bet she gets that a lot.