The View I don't like - Elisabeth

Oh brother. I just wrote a lovely blog about my dislike for Elisabeth from "The View" and for some reason it didn't not go through. Now I am tired and do not want to try to retrieve it from my flagging memory. So, here it is, I do not like Elisabeth from "The View" and I don't think Joy does either - even though they all profess to "love" each other....

The View I don't like - Elisabeth

I watch The View, in actuality I watch quite a bit of TV. I am very thankful for our DVR, because I can watch more in a shorter time. I watch The View's hot topics and not much more of it - so It only takes me about 20 minutes to catch up.

Elisabeth drives me crazy! I have not met anyone yet who enjoys Elisabeth, even if she is representing the conservative view (which Sherry represents too, but in a kinder nicer way).

Each Tuesday I talk with my sister in Maine. We usually talk for about an hour and a half. Many Tuesdays we take part of that time to rake Elisabeth over the coals. Do they keep her on the show because she is controversial? Why does she get to me so much. I don't have that reaction to other conservatives - at least not many.

Back to blogging

I am going to start again and try to blog at least twice a week. I don't know what happened, but I was going along great and then....nothing. So, I am back. I am on Facebook now and trying to learn about that - it is hard to keep up with everything.

My first Friday Five

So how about we share five "heavenly" things? These can be serious or funny or a combination of the two.
What is your idea of a heavenly (i.e. wonderful and perfect):
1. My idea of heavenly is spending time with my family and traveling. If we can combine that it's the best. We are going to California this April with my daughter and her husband - heavenly.

2. Song or musical piece: I love all kinds of music and I love to sing. Recently listening to gospel music in the car when we are traveling is the best. We turn it up loud and sing along, even if we don't know the words.

3. Gift: For me, many times little gifts are the best - little things that someone has picked up because they thought of me. Sweet Spirit gave me a little stone penguin as a gift and I just love him.

4. You choose whatever you like-food, pair of shoes, vacation, house, or something else. Just tell us what it is and what a heavenly version of it would be: I guess my home in Maine - going there and feeling comfortable and relaxed (that is a hard place right now - long story)

5. And for a serious moment, or what would you like your entrance into the next life to be like?What, from your vantage point now, would make Heaven "heavenly?": I would like to enter the next life without fear and with anticipation of a knowing that I do not possess now. And being able to experience (however that might be) loved ones who have gone before.

Sheetrock

I haven't been sleeping very well lately. We are having a sun room added onto our home. This is special for us, since we have only been married four years and I moved into Loving H's home, we are slowling making "his" home into "our" home. The workmen come early in the morning and it has been hard getting up early (and dressed) each day. I seem to worry in my sleep that I will not be up and ready - hence, it is interfering with my rest time...

Dan and Nate are our main worker fellows and they coordinate the sub-contractors. Loving H works nights, so when he comes home in the early morning hours he unlocks all the doors so the workers will have access. There is a lock box on our front door knob with our keys locked inside, so if we are not home Dan and Nate can get into the box and unlock our doors. One morning we did unlock the back door, but forgot the front door and the garage door (where they have their tools stored), so as we were lying in bed we heard Dan quietly unlock our door and creep across the floor to get to the garage door.

Yesterday Dan told us the men who were to put up the sheetrock would be coming today. This is an exciting step - getting the inside walls up. I have tried very hard to be up and dressed by the time the men arrive each day - never knowing if they will be there or not. This morning Loving H got home his usual time and I was (for once) dead to the world when the doorbell ding donged, not our regular guys, but the sheetrock guys. Oh my goodness - it was 7:30 and there they were - seeing me with hair standing all on end and me in my fleece jammies. It was a humbling experience, but the walls are looking great.

Climbing mountains

Last night I had a dream. Somehow I knew it was significant, but couldn't quite grasp what it meant. After some reflection I think I have made sense out of it.

A little background. Six years ago my husband left me after 32 years of marriage. It was not a complete shock, as things had been hard for a few years. However, he waited until he had a replacement, before he left - now that was a shocker. I will be blogging more on this, but for now, back to the dream. Oh, a little more background - our daughter, Sweet Spirit, was 27 when this happened.

In the dream I was together with my former husband (we have been divorced four years), but I could not determine if we were really together or just getting along well after the divorce (something that is not happening in real life). Sweet Spirit was there with us and we, all three, were in the mountains together.

The mountains were very rugged and steep, but we seemed to be staying in a place that was friendly and where we had been before. There was a sense that we had had happy times there. Everything was going well when my former husband and I realized that Sweet Spirit was gathering up her things - packing. We couldn't understand why she was doing this. She seemed very eager to get away. We went to her and asked her if she was coming back. She shook her head, "no, I am not coming back". I was so distressed and crying, not knowing why she would go and say she wouldn't be back. The room she was packing up looked so cozy and comfortable with all her things scattered around I couldn't understand. That was when I woke up - feeling very sad.

At first I had trouble making sense of the dream. Sweet Spirit had been away and on her own for many years before our separation and divorce. The mountains had great meaning to us, as a little family (she is an only child and we three had always been very close) we had gone to the biggest mountain in our state every year camping. Those are very special memories.

I started thinking about children of divorce - no matter their age. When their parents split up they are forced into a new direction - whether they like it or not and whether it is a good thing for them or not. I think in my dream I was acknowledging that different/difficult path that Sweet Spirit had to take after her parents were no longer together. And Sweet Spirit was letting me know, in the dream, that she had to do it and we could not go back again. We have a different mountain to climb now.

I am happily remarried and feel so fortunate to have a new life with a wonderful man. But, there will always be a part of me that mourns for our little family and what we had together at our mountain.

Harrie to Fred - Valentine's Day

I received a Valentine from my daughter, Sweet Spirit, yesterday. It was a wonderful "Mom" Valentine and it made me feel loved. On the inside cover she had pasted a very special Valentine poem - from my Mom, Harriet, to my Dad, Fred.

When my Mom died she left all her writings to Sweet Spirit. They had a unique bond that included their love of writing. When Sweet Spirit was a very little girl she would dictate stories to her Gram, which Gram would carefully write down. SS is slowly going through her Gram's writings - it was too hard at first, but now the time seems right.

This is the poem:
Valentine Day 1977 to F.L.N. (my Dad)

Walking through
The winds of change,
Learning, sharing,
As we do,
The glowing sun,
The pounding rain,
Make all our years
Seem so few.

They had five more years together and were married for 45 years. My Dad died in 1982 and Mom in 2004.

Sweet Spirit shared one of Harrie's poems on her blog too - http://AdventuresofMinLib.blogspot.com

Being yourself

Last Sunday our little Reconciling United Methodist group (made up of people from UMCs from all over our city) trundled on over, on a bitterly cold day, to a local Wesleyan University. We went to meet with the Chaplain and two members of a Pride Group. I was worried that not many would show up, but we had a decent showing - mostly older people (older than me and I am 56).

Our goal was to show a presence on the campus as supporters and our hope was we could partner with the college group as community support and information sharing. The Chaplain started the program. She is a bright young woman who shared that the university is trying to get a domestic partner package accepted for staff - seems sad that it hasn't already happened.

She then turned the meeting over to the two women from the Pride Group. They were a bit shy, but opened up as they talked and we asked questions. The first one who spoke told us that she was more comfortable and "out" in high school (she went to a large city high school) than she is at college. She has to be cautious. The other woman said that it is the opposite for her, but that she attended a small high school in a town with many Catholics. Both young women were very open with us, but we could tell it is not easy. The first woman has been through three roommates and doesn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable.

Our questions then turned to church and if they felt comfortable and accepted at church. Only one of them shared much. She said that she goes to a conservative church and that she is not "out" there. She said she wants to respect the people of the church and her parents (who have a hard time with "it" - I am assuming she meant, her being a lesbian). One of our group expressed - "that is so sad, church is the place where you should really feel comfortable being yourself."

I agree with my friend from our group and I know what she meant - but I wonder. How often are we really "who we are" at church. I am a person who speaks out and offers my opinion quite easily, but most times I don't feel really comfortable showing who I really am at church.

I have done it before. I have offered up my doubts and fears and been made to feel that I was somehow "less than" the rest, because I didn't believe as they did or "weak" because I shared that I had faults and flaws... It is a paradox. Part of being a community of faith should be the sharing of weakness and fear and many times it is not well recieved. Individuals in the church sometimes have been open to those emotions and feelings, but as a whole most times the church has trouble with it.

I feel sad that the young woman who spoke cannot be authentic with her church. She seemed fine with it, but I wonder if that is a cover or if how she feels will change. I appreciated their sharing with us and their openness with our group. They knew they were in a safe group and it showed. I am thankful for safe groups like oura, and they are part of the church - part of the whole. I feel blessed for that.

Love, love, love, Harrie

A few weeks ago a friend sent me a letter my Mom, Harriet, had sent her mother-in-law over thirty years ago. My friend was cleaning out her MIL's house (after her death) and found it. It was written when my Mom was 57 and had a broken leg. Mom broke her leg on Palm Sunday night after attending a church service (my Dad was the UMC pastor at a small country church). Hannah, her friend and my friend's MIL, had dropped her off (Dad stayed at church to finish up a few things) and Mom fell when she was running toward home in the dark down a dirt road full of frozen ruts.

Mom was in a cast for about eight weeks and Hannah came over to visit and brought food. I was pregnant with my daughter, Sweet Spirit, at the time. The note Mom sent Hannah was to thank her for being such a good friend. They were friends for over fifty years. Mom died three years ago at the age of 87. She signed off her note to Hannah - love, love, love, Harrie. I miss Mom.

Making Faces

Monday night I went to a meeting at my church of our AWE group (AWE stands for Affirming, Welcoming Everyone). We are a group dedicated to help our church work toward becoming a Reconciling Congregation in the United Methodist Church (a congregation intentionally welcoming of GLBT persons). There are many supportive people in the congregation, but many fearful people too.

Getting together with this group feels very good and safe. We always spend time on business, but also on sharing and support time. I find that is so important and needed - to feel safe, to speak out and share.

As we talked about our situation and what to do next, one person expressed that they thought there were many people who were supportive, but were afraid to speak out, because they were afraid they would lose friends. Another, older woman, said that she couldn't understand that way of thinking - why not agree to disagree. She is a person who speaks out and people do respect her. So, it works for her. She has friends who do not agree, but they are still friends. I do think that many who are afraid would find the same thing this woman has found. Why is there such fear and repression?

I am a person who speaks out. I have spoken out many times on this issue at all-church meetings. I have only been part of this church for four years. In this situation it is easy for me to speak out, because I have little history at this church. When I joined, I got involved with groups/people that had similar feelings as myself. I really don't know many of the people who are "on the other side", so to speak. When I get up and speak I am not looking out over friends of many years (and history) and seeing aghast expressions. I remember one time at Annual Conference in New England I participated in a demonstration where I went down front with a group and did look out over very serious scary expressions, some from people I knew and liked - I didn't enjoy the feeling, but it made me even more determined. At this church, I look out over my little group and then a group of people I don't really know. I guess I can understand those fence sitters....

At the meeting we talked about showing the movie "For the Bible Tells Me So" and plan to do it on March 9th. We are hoping we won't just be "preaching to the choir". How do you get people who probably should see it to do so? It is a question.

At one point during the meeting one young man started to speak of some people who were at one important church meeting (where we were taking a vote on becoming a Reconciling Congregation - it got tabled). He said those couples have middle/high school children and expressed they would leave the church if we became a Reconciling Congregation. He also went on to say that when I got up to speak they all sat there making faces. Whoa, wait a minute - I had a rather visceral reaction. "Oh reeeally!" I said - feeling kind of silly after it popped out. Oops, guess I do care a little what others think, but I know it is not enough to stop me. Then I thought, gee, I don't think I make faces when the "other side" speaks. I hope I didn't/don't.

It is a hard issue. I do think I am on the "right" side - the side of welcoming and inclusion, the side that I believe Jesus is on. And, we need to be careful if we are to have dialogue together. Respect of others is important - taking the high road when it comes to "making faces" and things like that. I have had much worse things thrown at me than someone making a face, but still it did sting....here at my new church.

Go Bless

This weekend Loving H and I went to visit his sister and family at their farm. They live about 80 miles from us. We live in the city and it is nice to ride out into the courntry to their farm.

When I lived in the East I lived in the country - in the woods. I live in the Midwest now and it is very different. I always loved living in the country, but I am finding I do enjoy city life. There is lots going on here in our city and, in a conservative state, it is nice living in a college city where things are more liberal (thank goodness).

Getting out into the country, though, is a nice change. I love going out where one can see for miles. I come from a state where trees are the norm, but I love the wide open spaces and the "big sky". I must have been a pioneer in a former life, because it doesn't seem strange to me. There is just something special about the prairie and the grasses waving in the wind (and many days there is lots of wind). And, there is so much to see - differing shades of colors, different plants and flowers, the birds swooping (so many hawks) and the changing light from one part of the day to another.

My sister-in-law likes to go for drives, so often when we go to visit we set off on a ride somewhere. In the summer we are apt to attend the local festivals in the little towns all around. Every week there seems to be something going on at a neighboring town.

This week we drove to one of the bigger towns to go on a tour of an ethanol plant. When we arrived we realized there was no tour - the tour was taking place at an ethanol plant about 70 miles away (the ad in the local paper hadn't been particularly clear).

On the drive back to the farm we took a couple short detours to drive around two small towns. The first town we explored was the town where a good friend's husband had grown up. My friend had told me the town was very small and declining. When we arrived there was a shabby little sign on a corner lot saying, "Go Bless". It was supposed to say "God Bless", but the D was gone - an example of a town going downhill. This little town has about 230 people living in it now - the railroad is gone and there isn't much there. The main street was sad with no cafe, stores or even a bar (a staple in my state). I don't think there was even a bank (another staple in most tiny towns). When we drove around the little neighborhood I saw a young woman holding a small dog - she smiled and waved. I waved back. Somehow it made me feel even more sad. This little town used to be a bustling, busy place and now... I whispered "God bless" as we drove away.

Texas Bunny and Flower

Have you seen the video of one very brave rabbit? We got it yesterday and I just love it. It begins with a very large snake laying (do snakes lie or lay - lay I think) in the grass. Along comes Texas Bunny she hops over to check out said snake. Mr. Snake rears up and tries to strike. TB jumps up, a spectacular gymnastic hop - this happens about three times.

TB then realizes it might be wise to go to the other end and check things out. So, she hops over to Mr. Snake's tail and gives a few nips. Mr. Snake isn't wild about this, so he starts wriggling off across the grass. TB thinks, hey. I can get rid of this guy so she follows nipping all the way.

Mr. Snake wriggles faster and faster toward a large pine tree and tries to go up into its branches, but TB has other plans. She races over and continues to bite and pull at Mr. Snake. He struggles hard and finally makes his way up into the branches. TB, her work done, hops happily away. How do I know that TB is a female - only a female would have the tenacity and perserverance to work on that snake until she got him where she wanted him.

Lying in bed last night (yes, I am pretty sure we lie) I got thinking about Flower - the resilent, brave leader of the Whiskers group of Meerkats on Meerkat Manor (the TV series). She lead her little (and then quite big) group of Meerkats through all kinds of troubles. She was strong, fearless, committed and loyal (yes, I know she did cheat on Aphod - hope I got his name right - at least once, but....). The episode when she was killed by that snake, after going into the burrow to make it safe for her pups and the others, was heartbreaking. I was sobbing. I don't read People magazine very often, but I did see they put in her obituary (well done), she deserved it. We need leaders like Flower - she knew what needed to be done and she did it. Am I a leader like Flower? Do I stick by my convictions? Am I willing to go into the burrow when there is danger there? Maybe sometimes, and then other times, not so much. I need to look to Flower. And, look to the Bunny!

This blogging thing

I am new to blogging, but I am really liking it. I am really liking reading other people's blogs - it is getting bad. I am getting addicted. I check in every day and I haven't written on my own blog because of it. I think it is easier to read other blogs than write my own - want to do better in that department. The first blog I check everyday is my daughter's (the most important blog), then I am off and running. I am rather a lurker, because I don't comment much. I am just getting my feet wet.

I have quite few blogs with which I am trying to keep up. Some of them don't write everyday, so that helps with my computer time. But, the other day I discovered a young woman's blog that has me reading every day and each day I am also reading a months worth of previous blogs - so I can get caught up on her life and how things happened in the painful journey she is on.

I am drawn to her, because first she is a good writer and I like her style (in writing and in life) and she is going through a separation and a divorce. It is happening very publicly for her - she is a pastor and her husband has left her for another woman. He also had an emotional affair with a woman of her congregation - how sucky is that?

She is much younger than me and she has a small child, but I went through something similar (public, in a religious setting, but on a smaller scale). Mine painful time/divorce happened after 32 years of marriage (over five years ago). But, how she writes about it speaks to me and touches me. And, I admire her spunk in the face of it all. On top of all the reading I am doing of her blog I am also reading a lot of the comments - so, you can see why it is taking up quite a bit of time. I love how supportive her blogger friends are - they are pretty spunky too! The support and strength from blogging friends is awesome.

I think I am going to have to stop looking for new blogs to read - it could take up my whole day, and here I was wondering why I had a headache last night - duh! The thing is though, I had hoped to find some women about my age, but I am reading women pastors' blogs and I am a laywoman - not that I think they would have a problem with that and my daughter is a UMC pastor (and I am a PK). But, this group is just too interesting to change over to another....

Things to do:
1. Write in my blog more
2. Stop lurking around quite so much
3. Comment more - maybe make a new friend
4. Housework......nah!!

"For the Bible Tells Me So"

On Saturday I went to see the movie "For the Bible Tells Me So". I knew it was going to be good. I had read the reviews and knew that I agreed with what the makers of the movie were saying.

It was great to go and see so many people there. I have been to that movie theater a few times (they play movies that are different, quirky or that other theaters will not play) and most of the time there have been few people in the seats. This time they had to get out extra chairs and check to see where there were any empty seats. There was a discussion planned for after the movie.

It was riveting from the beginning to the end. I wish I had taken notes, so I could recount the movie, but I just sat back and let it wash over me. It told the stories of families and how they reacted to the news that their son or daughter was gay or lesbian. It also took on the different passages in the Bible that are brought up over and over to support why being gay is a sin.....

The families' stories were heartbreaking, uplifting, thought-provoking, wonderful, awful - I was in tears over and over. There was a family who embraced their child with love and acceptance, there was a family whose shock was so much that it took time after which the parents became activists, there was a family whose clinging to those Bible verses caused a rift too deep and ended with suicide and a family who loves the sinner, but still hates the sin (their way of looking at it, not mine).

Theologians took on the Biblical passages. I have never been a literalist (which from the movie I learned is a recent way of looking at the Bible), so those passages never said much to me, except laws that are obsolete and mean nothing in today's world.

One of the families in the movie was Bishop Gene Robinson's. It was touching to hear his elderly parents talk about his coming out and how they dealt with it. And it was inspiring to watch the people cheer and celebrate when he was accepted as an Episcopal Bishop - even in the presence of lots of opposition. The pageantry of his installation is a bit over the top, but watching it made me cry. And, knowing he had to wear a bullet-proof vest, because of death threats, that makes me cry too.

One of our local reviewers wrote a positive and well written review of the movie. At the end he said something that haunts me - that the people who are going to this movie are, for the most part, not the people who need to see it. I wish there was a way to get those who should see it into the theater. If only they could see those people, hear their stories, it could make a real difference. Because, it is through knowing people and hearing their stories that people can be touched to open and think about change.

Chipped Blue

Making a cup of tea the other day I chipped my lovely blue tea caddy. It is a rich dark blue with lighter blue swirled through. I am inordinately partial to blue dishes. I bought it at Pier 1 and they don't sell them anymore.

I was angry with myself, but found the little blue chip that had left a white spot where the blue should be. I got out the Elmer's glue and was able to adhere the piece, so it didn't look too bad. My first thought, though, was that I should not have been using it every day. I should have had it up in the cupboard where this couldn't have happened.

I am apt to think like that, to not want to use nice things - to keep them put away safe, unused. I am trying hard not to be like that anymore. I have many nice things and I am trying to use them - not save them. You hear all the time about people who die and when the families go through their belongings they find all kinds of nice things packed away - with the tags still attached.

I remember years ago I bought a beautiful Icelandic sweater jacket that I bought at LL Beans. I loved that sweater and paid quite a bit for it. I wore it to a school function and got several compliments. I never wore it again - saving it for something special. A number of years later I decided I needed to get that out and start wearing it (it was old now, so okay to wear every day). I got it out and when I looked closely I saw many many little holes. The moths had gotten to it before me! I wish I could say "lesson learned", but I still have to fight that way of thinking.

After I chipped my lovely blue tea caddy I felt it was spoiled, not the same anymore. But, it is still beautiful, the blue is still rich and dark, it still feels smooth in my hands when I open it to get out the tea. I guess it is like me, a little worse for wear, but it is out there and being used and enjoyed. Got to remember that....

A Backyard Story

Can you find him??

This lower picture isn't part of my story - just wanted to try putting in images. This is a sunset pic taken in Iowa at the Amana Colonies. It was so beautiful.

Now to my story. When I lived in Maine I lived in the woods amongst big pine trees. We had living creatures all around - birds, squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, raccoons, porcupines, deer, moose, coyotes (and/or coy dogs) - you name it. We had them outside the house and inside the house - especially mice, squirrels and once a bat....oh no! I enjoyed living in the country. I liked the smell of the woods and the sap of the pines, but not on my car or the seat of my pants (which happened more often than you would think - who knew sitting at a picnic table.....).

Now I live in the city and a fairly big one at that. It is different, but I like it. I like it a lot. We live in a neighborhood on the eastern edge of the city, not so far away from cornfields and Kohl's - not bad. We have a nice backyard that backs up to a bike path, which used to be a railroad bed.

One would think that living in the city I wouldn't get a daily fix of nature or wildlife, but that is not the case. On our little patch, on any given day. I can see: squirrels running across the fence next door, many birds (my favorites, cardinals and chickadees - the Maine state bird), opossums (especially if we leave out the next door friendly kitty's bowl - who we leave snacks for) and little cottontail bunnies hopping all around. Once Larry even saw two deer right up the street on his way home from work in the early morning. And, this is something I hope I never see, but in a nearby city they have even seen a mountain lion. Wouldn't that be a sight walking down the bike path?

A few weeks ago Larry hollered to me - "come quick!" I didn't know what was up, so I rushed out worried. "There, there!" he pointed out in the backyard. "It's an owl!" He had seen a barn owl out there once and thought is was another one. On closer inspection from inside the sliding glass doors we decided it was a big hawk. He was sitting on a branch all puffed up like birds do when it is cold. He was a magnificent creature - very regal. We wanted to get a closer look, but didn't dare to open the sliding door, so we got out the camera, zoomed in and took pictures through the glass. He stayed there a long time and we enjoyed watching him and checking to see if he was still there.

I think about the animals and birds and know that we are slowly inexorably encroaching on their territory. It is sad that we are taking their space away. If I think about it too much it makes me cry - the rain forests and even the squirrel's nest that the bike path workers ruined when they took down that tree near our little patch (not a happy squirrel and here it is the dead of winter). It makes me think about being more careful and using resources wisely - going as green as we can.

A Brownie Story - with a strange ending

Sunday afternoon I decided I would make some brownies. My husband, Larry, loves anything I make (even canned soup), but I thought I would make him a nice treat (and me too). I did use a mix, but I doctored it up to make it more fancy and yummy. I put in chocolate bits (always a good choice) and made a cream cheese mixture to make them into special cream cheese brownies. I used to make these all the time when I worked in a gourmet cooking store where we sold them individually, but I digress.

They smelled great in the oven cooking. Larry was doing his Sunday afternoon Suduko puzzle, so after they were done and had cooled some I asked him if he would like a small piece. Stupid question - so we both had one. I noticed my piece tasted kind of funny, but I didn't say anything and thought, maybe it is because they are still pretty warm..... Larry scoffed his down and went back to his puzzle.

After dinner that night I again said - want a brownie? I had put them in the refrigerator since they had the cream cheese on them. I got them out and gave us both generous pieces. Larry ate his down and I slowly took a bite and then asked - "do you think the brownies taste okay??" Larry hesitated (as I said, he loves everything I cook him) and then said - "well they kind of taste like fish!" It took me two seconds to spit out my piece rush to the refrigerator and throw the contents of the pan in the trash. Larry hollered - "no, don't, I'll eat them...." To which I responded - "you are not going to eat brownies that taste like fish!" Yuck.

I cannot for the life of me figure out why, why....? I used a Pillsbury mix (milk chocolate) and all my ingredients were fresh and I went back and smelled everything. The oven had not been used to cook fish for months and the pan I used had never been used for fish. I can't imagine that it was the mix.....There is no explanation.

I talked to my sister, Diana, today and she made clam chowder on Sunday (the same day as brownie day). She used all fresh good ingredients and canned clams, but when Roger took one taste he said - "if we eat any more of this we will get very sick." The clams had a very strong bitter taste. I guess it wasn't the day to cook for me or my sister. Tonight Larry and I had Keebler (elf) cookies for dessert - safer that way, I think.

Movie and book thoughts - here and there

One resolution was to blog more often, but...well, I do a lot of thinking about it, but not much doing it. And, I can't believe that Christmas is over. I was going to write a Christmas blog, but that didn't happen.

One thing I wanted to do at Christmas time was to watch the movie "Christmas in Connecticut" and I did do that. I wanted to watch it, because my daughter lives in Connecticut and I also thought it was the movie where Bing Crosby sings "White Christmas". I remember watching that movie (the Bing one) one Christmas day when my daughter was young and we were playing with her Barbie dolls - just playing and watching. Anyway, I was wrong on that one - "Christmas in Connecticut" is a different movie starring Barbara Stanwyck. I guess I don't know my 1930's Christmas movies very well.

Speaking of movies I have seen two in the last week that I want to share with you. One is "The Station Agent" about a trio of unlikely friends and trains - sounds strange, but is a very good movie. I had seen it with my movie girl friends a couple years ago, but watched again with Larry , my husband. He liked it too - a funky movie, worth netflixing. The other movie is "The Wedding Banquet" co-written and directed by Ang Lee (or Lee Ang....). It is really good about a Chinese family with a gay son and his American partner. It took me a while to figure out I need to put on the English subtitles, since there is some English spoken, but most of it is in Chinese. Reminded me of the time I was in Holland watching an English speaking movie with Dutch subtitles.... "The Wedding Banquet" is well worth watching and another netflix suggestion.

One last thing. I recently read a good book by Barbara Pym (English author) "Quartet in Autumn". It is a book about four co-workers in their late fifties or early sixties - two men and two women (set in the 1970's). The writing style is spare, but gives insights and feelings of what it is like to be at the end of one's working life. These people are all pretty inhibited and it is not an upper to read this book, but I loved the quirkiness of it the little impressions of these people.

Just a quick story of getting this book. I love Barbara Pym and went online to find out how many books she had written (she is no longer living). I then went on Alibris and there were all her books for $1.99 apiece. I got all excited - only to discover the shipping was a lot more than $1.99, my big bargain wasn't so much of a bargain, but at least they were available and I could get them.