Pam just sent me this post by Danny Gregory. Before you read his list, make your own: who are ten living people with whom you'd like to share dinner?
https://dannygregorysblog.com/2016/11/29/ten-living-people-id-like-to-have-dinner-with/
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Bird by Bird by Bird by Bird
"I started writing when I was seven or eight. I was very shy and strange-looking, loved reading above everything else, weighed about forty pounds at the time, and was so tense that I walked around with my shoulders up to my ears, like Richard Nixon. I saw a home movie once of a birthday party I went to in the first grade, with all these cute little boys and girls playing together like puppies, and all of a sudden I scuttled across the screen like Prufrock’s crab. I was very clearly the one who was going to grow up to be a serial killer, or keep dozens of cats. Instead I got funny…."
from Bird By Bird, the Introduction
Anne Lamott is the funniest person on paper I know. She has the kind of voice that if you should hear it on a radio interview from the next room (which I did once twenty years ago), you'll know it's Anne's voice (as I did when I followed the voice into the kitchen that day to make sure.) She writes exactly like she talks.
She's not funny all the way through, though, one funny line after the other. She can have you laughing, then bring you in for a tearful landing in the very next paragraph. She makes the reader feel like she's right there, your best friend, just telling stories and throwing in some good advice along the way.
Bird By Bird is subtitled "Some Instructions on Writing and Life."
I have many books that instruct me on the craft of writing. I've read all (or parts of all) of them. Some are written in a humorless authoritarian voice that sounds like it came down from On High along with the Ten Commandments. Some provide a seemingly workable map to fame and fortune in the business of writing or to popularity and universal acclaim in the business of life.
Some give the reader lists of things to write about, which I never feel compelled to do since the writer of the advice book thought of them first. Several of these books give good solid advice by well-known writers and reading them is like attending a writing conference.
Though I've never met Anne personally, even when I hung out in the bookstore in Marin County three years ago hoping she'd show up, she's great company, whether you want to write or not. About every page or two, I look up from the page and look out the window to the bird feeders on my happy deck and notice that I'm smiling.
Just now, when I did that, I noticed that when we decorated the happy deck, I'd hung a yellow and green cartoony iguana on the wall, and it seems fitting that she's out there the day after I bought a Tiguan (tiger/iguana) car. It's like a little jokey sign telling me which car to pick, and it's been there all the time.
from Bird By Bird, the Introduction
Anne Lamott is the funniest person on paper I know. She has the kind of voice that if you should hear it on a radio interview from the next room (which I did once twenty years ago), you'll know it's Anne's voice (as I did when I followed the voice into the kitchen that day to make sure.) She writes exactly like she talks.
She's not funny all the way through, though, one funny line after the other. She can have you laughing, then bring you in for a tearful landing in the very next paragraph. She makes the reader feel like she's right there, your best friend, just telling stories and throwing in some good advice along the way.
Bird By Bird is subtitled "Some Instructions on Writing and Life."
I have many books that instruct me on the craft of writing. I've read all (or parts of all) of them. Some are written in a humorless authoritarian voice that sounds like it came down from On High along with the Ten Commandments. Some provide a seemingly workable map to fame and fortune in the business of writing or to popularity and universal acclaim in the business of life.
Some give the reader lists of things to write about, which I never feel compelled to do since the writer of the advice book thought of them first. Several of these books give good solid advice by well-known writers and reading them is like attending a writing conference.
Though I've never met Anne personally, even when I hung out in the bookstore in Marin County three years ago hoping she'd show up, she's great company, whether you want to write or not. About every page or two, I look up from the page and look out the window to the bird feeders on my happy deck and notice that I'm smiling.
Just now, when I did that, I noticed that when we decorated the happy deck, I'd hung a yellow and green cartoony iguana on the wall, and it seems fitting that she's out there the day after I bought a Tiguan (tiger/iguana) car. It's like a little jokey sign telling me which car to pick, and it's been there all the time.
A Taking It Easy Day
Almost two years ago, I met an interesting woman at an antique shop in Georgia owned by a friend of Mike's. We sat in old chairs and talked. We had that mutual conversational spark that lets you know you've found a kindred soul.
We exchanged email addresses and planned to stay in touch, but I never heard from her again.
Yesterday, she called from Stone Mountain. She'd sent me an email and never gotten a response. I'd done the same. Who knows where lost letters go in cyberspace?
Since we met, she's decided to leave a corporate job and take it easy for a while, and I told her that Mike and I had broken up. Neither of us went into detail, but it felt like we were both crossing into new territories. Both of us had experienced some physical and emotional complications before deciding to call it quits.
"Work and relationships shouldn't be hard," she said. "They should be easy. We're so programmed to stick with things, make them work...."
"What are you doing now?" I asked.
"Nothing!" she said with great joy. "I'm just taking it easy and doing whatever I feel like."
It was wonderful to hear from her just at that moment. I got in my new Tiguan and went for a ride to the grocery store for weekend provisions to celebrate.
Today I'm going to do exactly what I did yesterday--read a little of The Nightingale (an excellent novel by Kristin Hannah set in World War II), then a little Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott, then back to Nightingale, etc. all day long. Back and forth, a page here, a page there, falling asleep when I get sleepy, waking up when I feel like it. I love days like this!
We exchanged email addresses and planned to stay in touch, but I never heard from her again.
Yesterday, she called from Stone Mountain. She'd sent me an email and never gotten a response. I'd done the same. Who knows where lost letters go in cyberspace?
Since we met, she's decided to leave a corporate job and take it easy for a while, and I told her that Mike and I had broken up. Neither of us went into detail, but it felt like we were both crossing into new territories. Both of us had experienced some physical and emotional complications before deciding to call it quits.
"Work and relationships shouldn't be hard," she said. "They should be easy. We're so programmed to stick with things, make them work...."
"What are you doing now?" I asked.
"Nothing!" she said with great joy. "I'm just taking it easy and doing whatever I feel like."
It was wonderful to hear from her just at that moment. I got in my new Tiguan and went for a ride to the grocery store for weekend provisions to celebrate.
Today I'm going to do exactly what I did yesterday--read a little of The Nightingale (an excellent novel by Kristin Hannah set in World War II), then a little Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott, then back to Nightingale, etc. all day long. Back and forth, a page here, a page there, falling asleep when I get sleepy, waking up when I feel like it. I love days like this!
Friday, November 25, 2016
We did it!
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| My first passenger in the Tiguan |
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| Elena kissing the Mini good-bye |
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| Elena taking a picture of Yenna hugging her last Mini |
On our first drive--to my house after three hours at Ancira--Elena said, "This car is so.....so peaceful."
Black and White Friday
My first computer was someone else's used Apple, $100, a funky little gray machine with a screen about the size of an iPad, but all black and white. Before buying it, I talked to everyone I knew who had a computer: Apple or Dell? and wound up joining the Apple club for life.
My first car-of-my-own (not counting a '55 Oldsmobile I drove senior year that soon became my daddy's fishing car) was a beautiful turquoise 1990 Acura Integra, $14,000. (Actually, it was a gift from my parents, so it only cost me gas and insurance!) I loved that little car and it was my vehicle (literally and figuratively) into Singledom.
Married, we'd had a '67 Volkswagen, two Volvos, a Dodge van, and a Suburban, but those had been chosen by the man. (My only contribution to the choice of Volvo #2 was blue.)
Betty's often said I make decisions by consensus, and she's right. Until I got my Choosing Muscle built up, it took many phone calls and interviews with owners to make a decision.
I drove that pretty Acura for ten years, then got a white Camry which I drove for seven. In 2005, I only asked Mini people for advice and put my fingers in my ear when I got unsolicited advice from anyone else. It was exactly what I hoped it would be and I've been a Mini Girl for a decade.
Now the Mini decade is coming to an end. Driving without a spare tire on long road trips is a factor (again!), the ride on Mini tires is hard and noisy, and there's no back-up camera. The seats are so-so comfortable. So after trying out three sedans and a Kia Soul, I'm buying a Tiguan today, Black Friday. Elena will be my first passenger--as her daddy was in former Minis.
Victor let me bring it home a couple of days ago--and I'm smitten. Falling in love with a car or a person is a very individual decision and this one feels so right. It's a quiet, comfortable ride and I love the look of it.
If all goes as planned with Victor, I'll be driving a white Volkswagen Tiguan (the word comes from tiger and iguana so Elena will love it) home from the Black Friday sale.
My first car-of-my-own (not counting a '55 Oldsmobile I drove senior year that soon became my daddy's fishing car) was a beautiful turquoise 1990 Acura Integra, $14,000. (Actually, it was a gift from my parents, so it only cost me gas and insurance!) I loved that little car and it was my vehicle (literally and figuratively) into Singledom.
Married, we'd had a '67 Volkswagen, two Volvos, a Dodge van, and a Suburban, but those had been chosen by the man. (My only contribution to the choice of Volvo #2 was blue.)
Betty's often said I make decisions by consensus, and she's right. Until I got my Choosing Muscle built up, it took many phone calls and interviews with owners to make a decision.
I drove that pretty Acura for ten years, then got a white Camry which I drove for seven. In 2005, I only asked Mini people for advice and put my fingers in my ear when I got unsolicited advice from anyone else. It was exactly what I hoped it would be and I've been a Mini Girl for a decade.
Now the Mini decade is coming to an end. Driving without a spare tire on long road trips is a factor (again!), the ride on Mini tires is hard and noisy, and there's no back-up camera. The seats are so-so comfortable. So after trying out three sedans and a Kia Soul, I'm buying a Tiguan today, Black Friday. Elena will be my first passenger--as her daddy was in former Minis.
Victor let me bring it home a couple of days ago--and I'm smitten. Falling in love with a car or a person is a very individual decision and this one feels so right. It's a quiet, comfortable ride and I love the look of it.
If all goes as planned with Victor, I'll be driving a white Volkswagen Tiguan (the word comes from tiger and iguana so Elena will love it) home from the Black Friday sale.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Thanksgiving, San Antonio
Here's Thanksgiving on a beautiful Texas afternoon at Kate's....
And here's Jackson on his way to New Jersey to have Thanksgiving with his Leary family:
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| Kate and her daughter and cooking partner, Lisa |
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| Lisa's son Michael with his wife, Molly, and precious Baby Owen |
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| La-La with her grandson, Owen |
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| I stayed for the Bloody Mary's and a delicious meal, then left when football started. |
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| Kate and Me Sisters for nearly 20 years! |
Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!
I celebrated Thanksgiving with Will and family on Tuesday. Pam went with me to their early dinner and we had--among other things--the juiciest bird, basted with herbs and cooked in a bag. That's the way I'm going to cook it if I ever cook one again.
Elena and seven other little girls were drawing in her room and Nathan and a boy cousin were playing. Two baby boys (one Vicky's, the other Brenda's) were parked in little carriers, side by side, cousins who look like twins. The girls had a sign on the door saying "Girls Only Club" (written by Elena) but they let these two grandmothers in.
I'm wide awake at 4:13 in the morning--trying to sleep, then getting up and cleaning, then reading. Just took a Benadryl, a glass of milk, and a slice of Veronica's zucchini bread. That should do the trick. The movie I watched at midnight was "A Sea of Trees."
Later today, I'll have another delicious meal with Kate and family--and she really knows how to put on a party!
Wherever you are, and with whomever, I hope each of you will have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Elena and seven other little girls were drawing in her room and Nathan and a boy cousin were playing. Two baby boys (one Vicky's, the other Brenda's) were parked in little carriers, side by side, cousins who look like twins. The girls had a sign on the door saying "Girls Only Club" (written by Elena) but they let these two grandmothers in.
I'm wide awake at 4:13 in the morning--trying to sleep, then getting up and cleaning, then reading. Just took a Benadryl, a glass of milk, and a slice of Veronica's zucchini bread. That should do the trick. The movie I watched at midnight was "A Sea of Trees."
Later today, I'll have another delicious meal with Kate and family--and she really knows how to put on a party!
Wherever you are, and with whomever, I hope each of you will have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
When the milk goes sour...
This week I talked to several neighbors and friends I hadn't seen in while, so we had a lot to catching up to do.
First, we talked about You-Know-Who and the election results, then we moved closer-to-home-- grandchildren, travel tales, and building projects. When three people in one day asked me the dreaded question (Is Mike coming for the holidays?) I thought Ugh Oh, I have to say it again.
"We broke up, we're going our separate ways," I said.
There are about 43 ways to tell a story. I can look all sad and gloomy, or I can recount every unnerving detail. What I say to two neighbors on the street-- "Long distance relationships are hard to sustain."
When people break up, they've been breaking up slowly for a while, but patching it together with plaster, hoping for the best. And even while they're patching, good things happen, too--as I wrote about earlier on the blog from New England.
Breaking up involves a series of falls. Like children's building blocks precariously stacked on top of each other, the falls finally add up to that last big one that brings the tower of love crashing down.
I remember back when we could tell each other everything, no secrets. The first months of loving someone is full of telling everything, everything, everything. Then distance creeps in. Gazes turn to glances and, and you know it's dissolving.
So I tell the story, in abbreviated versions mostly, and each person gives me a new block for my new tower, whatever that is.
One neighbor who asked that question yesterday said she was sad to hear the news, but then said, "When the milk goes sour, there's no reason to drink it anymore."
First, we talked about You-Know-Who and the election results, then we moved closer-to-home-- grandchildren, travel tales, and building projects. When three people in one day asked me the dreaded question (Is Mike coming for the holidays?) I thought Ugh Oh, I have to say it again.
"We broke up, we're going our separate ways," I said.
There are about 43 ways to tell a story. I can look all sad and gloomy, or I can recount every unnerving detail. What I say to two neighbors on the street-- "Long distance relationships are hard to sustain."
When people break up, they've been breaking up slowly for a while, but patching it together with plaster, hoping for the best. And even while they're patching, good things happen, too--as I wrote about earlier on the blog from New England.
Breaking up involves a series of falls. Like children's building blocks precariously stacked on top of each other, the falls finally add up to that last big one that brings the tower of love crashing down.
I remember back when we could tell each other everything, no secrets. The first months of loving someone is full of telling everything, everything, everything. Then distance creeps in. Gazes turn to glances and, and you know it's dissolving.
So I tell the story, in abbreviated versions mostly, and each person gives me a new block for my new tower, whatever that is.
One neighbor who asked that question yesterday said she was sad to hear the news, but then said, "When the milk goes sour, there's no reason to drink it anymore."
Monday, November 21, 2016
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Girls in Revolt
"Spirit in the Sky...."
Marilyn singing "Happy Birthday, Mr. President...."
Panty hose and girdles, high heels and pearls....
Nora Ephron, young....
"A pretty girl like you--you should have a ring on that finger by now!"
Women in offices being called "girls" by the men....
Everybody smoking in the office....
Black rotary dial phones....
The Sensuous Woman....
Typewriters and Charm Bracelets....
If you want a trip back in time, just for ten episodes, and if you remember those days, you gotta watch Girls in Revolt on Amazon. Freda told me about it this afternoon as we were driving to a blues concert, and it's my Sunday night watch. I'm three episodes in. It's uncovering memories of those years when feminism was a baby and men got all the "important" jobs, even when their underlings were as smart as they were.
Marilyn singing "Happy Birthday, Mr. President...."
Panty hose and girdles, high heels and pearls....
Nora Ephron, young....
"A pretty girl like you--you should have a ring on that finger by now!"
Women in offices being called "girls" by the men....
Everybody smoking in the office....
Black rotary dial phones....
The Sensuous Woman....
Typewriters and Charm Bracelets....
If you want a trip back in time, just for ten episodes, and if you remember those days, you gotta watch Girls in Revolt on Amazon. Freda told me about it this afternoon as we were driving to a blues concert, and it's my Sunday night watch. I'm three episodes in. It's uncovering memories of those years when feminism was a baby and men got all the "important" jobs, even when their underlings were as smart as they were.
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