Caught a show on streaming video tonight about "Ringers." This was a program about fans (fanatics?) of The Lord of the Rings. I found the film very interesting and encouraging, though I worry a bit about people who need to immerse themselves so much in the fantasy world.
I loved LOTR. (I still love that epic journey.) I built (what my mother called) a little shrine to Tolkien and read and reread his books. I studied him and wrote papers for school. That was years ago. I was a pre-teen and a teenager. I am still enthralled by his world and mythology. I still know more about Tolkien's creation than most people. I've explored it. I lived with it and then, I moved on... years ago.
I will admit that I do revisit that wondrous world from time to time.
I'm encouraged by films than examine fandom because the fans seem to take such comfort in stories about reluctant heroes who accomplish world-saving tasks with the help of all peoples, a theme in the documentary tonight. The fanatics are desperate to live in a world where cooperation, goodwill and courage end in victory and salvation. Again, I find this encouraging. I know J.R.R. himself shied away from the fanatics, but I think he'd be pleased to see the hope he gave so many seemingly hopeless people.
I digress. I wanted to talk about my experience with "The Lord of the Rings."
My brother Joe gave me a copy of "The Hobbit" when I was about 10. It was a birthday present my perfect older brother thought I'd like. The book changed my life and I want to thank him. That one book opened up a whole new world of fantasy and exploration. Once I realized I could read more about this wondrous place called Middle Earth I had to get "Lord of the Rings." I started really reading.
Those four books taught me that complicated stories are the best. The longest books are the best because one could live with the characters for such an extended period of time and one didn't have to say good-bye. Not yet.
I started reading voraciously after "The Hobbit." Not just Tolkien, but every fantasy book I could find. I read C.S. Lewis, MacDonald, Piers Anthony, Ursala LeGuin, and then on to Science Fiction. I read Vonnegut and Ray Bradbury and Heinlein. I read Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. I read Ayn Rand (oddly similar) and Stephen King. I read Frank Herbert and Greg Bear. I read Anne Rice and Anne McCaffrey. After that I found Hemmingway. I found the Bronte sisters. I moved on to Robert Ludlum and went into my spy stage. I started reading historical novels. My world changed.
My world changed because my brother gave me a book.
That book was "The Hobbit."
A few months ago I sent the same book to my niece, his daughter. She is already a great reader... But now, who knows where she'll be taken. To read this book for the first time? I envy her and wish her well on the great journey!
See what you've started, my dear brother Joe? Do you remember that unbelievable gift? I am forever in your debt.
xo
Monday, December 27, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Jing Jing Jing-A-Ling.
I just returned from an amazing whorlwind of a weekend. (Yes, I mean whorl.) It was round about and kinetic, frantic and loads of fun. I took a road-trip with one dear friend and met up with two others.
Paso Robles Babes
This was after the first couple of glasses of wine. (Thanks, Mike for the picture!)
My dear friends from high school. We look a bit older... okay.. I know... we look our age. But to each other we look the same. We certainly seem the same (ask anyone of them). Years since we've been together and I think our joy is apparent. A little bit of a time warp and not.
We've all been married for years, two of us have children. (2 boys and 2 girls between us.. not bad.) Without going into details... We had "the best of times" and have shared some of "the worst of times."
There is something about hanging with people one has known for ... let me see, we all met in 1968. Is that possible? We've known each other for 42 years! Hard to beat that. One sort of has to go back to one's parents and siblings for any longer relationship. (My Aunt will take exception to that comment.) One has to figure, if some one has liked you for 42 years, one is gonna be hard-pressed to do something to change that!
Comfort and community and very good friendship.
Facebook put us all together. Amazing. I'm grateful. We will do this again. We will not wait another 25 or more years. These women are too valuable to lose twice!
And so... back to Christmas!
And back to our little home and our much admired little Christmas tree. Phil finally has his eye surgery tomorrow, fixing a blocked tear duct. I'm nearly done with all the present shopping and just have some holiday brunch shopping to complete. (The stage manager in me wants everything done now, no time to waste!) I've got cookies and bread to bake filling the house with the glorious seasonal smells. If you didn't get a Christmas card from us, I'm sorry, but this season has been just a bit too busy and a bit too short. I'll catch you next year! (Or, you may get a card on the 27th..)
I'm loving and hating all the rain. It is glorious and a pain in the ass all at the same time.
I pick up the hams Thursday. (One for Dad!)
Jing jing jing-a-ling.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Hope Is Like Aspirin.
I can't stop sneezing. Call me Sneezy. I walk into my own house and sneeze. It is just the time of year. My doctor asks me every time, "Have you taken up your carpets?" YES, years ago. I think it is the heater, but right now the heater is off. Sometimes my doctor says, "What is wrong with your face?" Uh, duh! I'm allergic! He gives me steroids. It helps.
Not what I wanted to talk about. I just started sneezing as I opened this post. Hate that! (Worry not about me, I've lived with this as long as I can remember.)
As I've said so many times, we have to live in hope. But now I think hope may be like aspirin. Did you read the papers? Aspirin may prevent MANY types of cancer. How wonderful is that? The cheapest drug we have may be the most effective.
Hope. Hope is about looking forward. Hope is also about living each day as it comes. I change plans depending on my most handsome husband's ability to wander out of the house. I will (easily) give up my plans to walk or work if he is feeling well enough to leave the house. I want to take him outside! I want to go with him. I don't want him to become isolated and alone. Never. Ever.
My winter days. I'm gearing up for Christmas. I've been shopping. I'm the worst shopper, alone. I can't make a decision. Alone, I can't be rushed, so I spend hours and come home with one thing. I need a partner. My sisters are coming soon.
I don't feel very "Christmassy" this year. The decorations are up but I haven't found "it". My husband is having surgery right before Christmas; we've done all the tests that need to be done and faxed, we have a week and a half until...
Meanwhile, I've yet to correct my students' final project. I've a final to give. But, you know, it is just work. While I take it all very seriously, it is not about our life. Important, but sometimes, less so.
The new year will dawn. It always does. I have (albeit) a brief job, I have a job! All is good.
Thanks Jimmie.
Out of the chaos, my friends give me hope.
I'll take it!
Not what I wanted to talk about. I just started sneezing as I opened this post. Hate that! (Worry not about me, I've lived with this as long as I can remember.)
As I've said so many times, we have to live in hope. But now I think hope may be like aspirin. Did you read the papers? Aspirin may prevent MANY types of cancer. How wonderful is that? The cheapest drug we have may be the most effective.
Hope. Hope is about looking forward. Hope is also about living each day as it comes. I change plans depending on my most handsome husband's ability to wander out of the house. I will (easily) give up my plans to walk or work if he is feeling well enough to leave the house. I want to take him outside! I want to go with him. I don't want him to become isolated and alone. Never. Ever.
My winter days. I'm gearing up for Christmas. I've been shopping. I'm the worst shopper, alone. I can't make a decision. Alone, I can't be rushed, so I spend hours and come home with one thing. I need a partner. My sisters are coming soon.
I don't feel very "Christmassy" this year. The decorations are up but I haven't found "it". My husband is having surgery right before Christmas; we've done all the tests that need to be done and faxed, we have a week and a half until...
Meanwhile, I've yet to correct my students' final project. I've a final to give. But, you know, it is just work. While I take it all very seriously, it is not about our life. Important, but sometimes, less so.
The new year will dawn. It always does. I have (albeit) a brief job, I have a job! All is good.
Thanks Jimmie.
Out of the chaos, my friends give me hope.
I'll take it!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Little Christmas Story.
Every year, Christmas Eve has been a remarkable event. I am one of 5 children and one of 4 daughters. Sometimes we'd go to my paternal aunt's for Christmas Eve dinner. We'd play games with our cousins and share little gifts. Sometimes we'd go to my Grandma's house... loved that, she was the best cook and made anisette cookies that sang Christmas. Sometimes we'd go to our lovely neighbor's and she'd include some of my extended family. Her name was Eve and she'd present the most elegant Christmas Eve dinner.
Later, at home, Mom and Dad would let us open one gift from under the tree. (The stockings were still empty. In our house, Santa filled the stockings while we were sleeping.)
Christmas Eve. We could chose to open any package under the tree addressed to us, but somehow, I think my parents guided us to the wrapped book or a fuzzy stuffed animal that would send us happily to sleep.
Oh, and the morning! The five of us would wake each other up. Christmas morning! Get Up! Run downstairs! OH! My parents (and Santa) were extravagant again! So many presents! (There were FIVE of us... a lot of presents under the tree... almost too much. Is that BIG one for me?)
Ah.
But...
We had rules for Christmas morning.
Santa had filled our stockings. We knew we could immediately rush to the fireplace (sometimes a paper fireplace) and look in the stockings. We could open and use everything in the stockings now!
The stockings were filled with new socks or panty-hose (depending on our age and sex). My sisters and I had new veils for church. My brother had a new tie. No oranges or candy. Oh. Right. No Breakfast! We had to fast in those days prior to communion. It didn't matter that we were only 8 years old. Church first. Sacrifice first. Presents later. (Breakfast? Who needs breakfast?)
So... off we'd go to church. Oh, my gosh, we always went to High Mass. The really LONG version of Mass. If you were Catholic, like me, you spent a little time after the really long Mass visiting the Baby Jesus.
As we left the church, the priest and the neighbors and all their kids had to be greeted and wished a Merry Christmas. (We were well-trained children and all on our best behavior... It was Christmas! We were caught up in it ALL... Rewards were yet to come!)
The seven of us (Mom, Dad and the five kids) would climb into the Oldsmobile. Dad would then say, "Let's go out for breakfast!" OH, NO... there were presents waiting at home! Couldn't we just have a little cereal and open the gifts? But NO! (Dad was driving. We didn't have a choice. I realize now, he had a plan. He was just prolonging the anticipation.)
It was torture.
We went to the Jewish Deli. Every year. They were open on Christmas Morning. We had eggs and hash browns and toast and jelly. We spent the entire time begging our father to take us home to the gifts under the tree. He laughed and enjoyed our frustration. He was teasing us. I look back and think, "What a riot!"
FINALLY we'd come home to the tree and all the presents waiting to be opened. It was now about 11 o'clock. Some of us wanted to get out of "church clothes," some of us needed to use the bathroom... yeah, that would be Dad. We never opened a gift without everyone in the room. Now we needed to wait for DAD to get out of the toilet. (Dads can be gross like that.) So, at 13, 9, 7, 4 and 2 we'd wait and wait for Dad. We'd talk and ultimately sing more Christmas songs. Mom would say, "C'mon Dad!"
And Dad, laughing, would finally join us all in the living room.
We took turns each year "playing" Santa. One child was assigned the task of handing out the presents. We'd each get a present and wait until every person had a gift and then open them one at a time all together. We'd thank each other, pick up the paper and move on. PERFECT. Well, that's how it started. Ultimately, we were all under the tree, pulling out the packages labeled with our names. Yeah, Chaos!
Okay, kinda perfect too.
It was now around noon. Our family Christmas was over and we were free to join our friends on the block with our new skateboards or bicycles or Barbie Dolls. We were free to play!
Yay!
Christmas dinner was strictly a family affair and very casual. No pressure. We could join another family or stay home as we pleased. We could play with each other or with friends. We'd always end up singing songs together at the end of the night.
As we grew older, Mom started making breakfast at home. In my late teens we started attending Midnight Mass so the dynamic changed a bit. Suddenly, my siblings and I were in college and we came home but briefly. We started getting married, some of us had children and all of us needed to start new traditions with our spouses. Our old Family Christmas became all about breakfast and the beginnings of a new day.
And to this day... my mother gone, my Dad in fairly good health, many of us come together with the next generation. We eat a Christmas breakfast, go to the toilet, and gather to open presents. We wait for everyone to join us in the family living room. We assign one niece or nephew to play "Santa"; we open presents and chat and sing. Dalila plays the piano. We kiss and love and say good-bye around 2 or 3 pm. We are then free to play! Or, to see the in-laws or to just go home and be oh so grateful to be part of this particular family.
We have a tradition. It is about anticipation and communion. It is about family. It is and has always been about enjoying the holiday... together and apart.
This year, as my mother did for so many years, I'm preparing scrambled eggs, cranberry bread, strawberries and Christmas sausages. We'll eat first and open presents later.
Happy Holidays Dear Readers!
Later, at home, Mom and Dad would let us open one gift from under the tree. (The stockings were still empty. In our house, Santa filled the stockings while we were sleeping.)
Christmas Eve. We could chose to open any package under the tree addressed to us, but somehow, I think my parents guided us to the wrapped book or a fuzzy stuffed animal that would send us happily to sleep.
Oh, and the morning! The five of us would wake each other up. Christmas morning! Get Up! Run downstairs! OH! My parents (and Santa) were extravagant again! So many presents! (There were FIVE of us... a lot of presents under the tree... almost too much. Is that BIG one for me?)
Ah.
But...
We had rules for Christmas morning.
Santa had filled our stockings. We knew we could immediately rush to the fireplace (sometimes a paper fireplace) and look in the stockings. We could open and use everything in the stockings now!
The stockings were filled with new socks or panty-hose (depending on our age and sex). My sisters and I had new veils for church. My brother had a new tie. No oranges or candy. Oh. Right. No Breakfast! We had to fast in those days prior to communion. It didn't matter that we were only 8 years old. Church first. Sacrifice first. Presents later. (Breakfast? Who needs breakfast?)
So... off we'd go to church. Oh, my gosh, we always went to High Mass. The really LONG version of Mass. If you were Catholic, like me, you spent a little time after the really long Mass visiting the Baby Jesus.
As we left the church, the priest and the neighbors and all their kids had to be greeted and wished a Merry Christmas. (We were well-trained children and all on our best behavior... It was Christmas! We were caught up in it ALL... Rewards were yet to come!)
The seven of us (Mom, Dad and the five kids) would climb into the Oldsmobile. Dad would then say, "Let's go out for breakfast!" OH, NO... there were presents waiting at home! Couldn't we just have a little cereal and open the gifts? But NO! (Dad was driving. We didn't have a choice. I realize now, he had a plan. He was just prolonging the anticipation.)
It was torture.
We went to the Jewish Deli. Every year. They were open on Christmas Morning. We had eggs and hash browns and toast and jelly. We spent the entire time begging our father to take us home to the gifts under the tree. He laughed and enjoyed our frustration. He was teasing us. I look back and think, "What a riot!"
FINALLY we'd come home to the tree and all the presents waiting to be opened. It was now about 11 o'clock. Some of us wanted to get out of "church clothes," some of us needed to use the bathroom... yeah, that would be Dad. We never opened a gift without everyone in the room. Now we needed to wait for DAD to get out of the toilet. (Dads can be gross like that.) So, at 13, 9, 7, 4 and 2 we'd wait and wait for Dad. We'd talk and ultimately sing more Christmas songs. Mom would say, "C'mon Dad!"
And Dad, laughing, would finally join us all in the living room.
We took turns each year "playing" Santa. One child was assigned the task of handing out the presents. We'd each get a present and wait until every person had a gift and then open them one at a time all together. We'd thank each other, pick up the paper and move on. PERFECT. Well, that's how it started. Ultimately, we were all under the tree, pulling out the packages labeled with our names. Yeah, Chaos!
Okay, kinda perfect too.
It was now around noon. Our family Christmas was over and we were free to join our friends on the block with our new skateboards or bicycles or Barbie Dolls. We were free to play!
Yay!
Christmas dinner was strictly a family affair and very casual. No pressure. We could join another family or stay home as we pleased. We could play with each other or with friends. We'd always end up singing songs together at the end of the night.
As we grew older, Mom started making breakfast at home. In my late teens we started attending Midnight Mass so the dynamic changed a bit. Suddenly, my siblings and I were in college and we came home but briefly. We started getting married, some of us had children and all of us needed to start new traditions with our spouses. Our old Family Christmas became all about breakfast and the beginnings of a new day.
And to this day... my mother gone, my Dad in fairly good health, many of us come together with the next generation. We eat a Christmas breakfast, go to the toilet, and gather to open presents. We wait for everyone to join us in the family living room. We assign one niece or nephew to play "Santa"; we open presents and chat and sing. Dalila plays the piano. We kiss and love and say good-bye around 2 or 3 pm. We are then free to play! Or, to see the in-laws or to just go home and be oh so grateful to be part of this particular family.
We have a tradition. It is about anticipation and communion. It is about family. It is and has always been about enjoying the holiday... together and apart.
This year, as my mother did for so many years, I'm preparing scrambled eggs, cranberry bread, strawberries and Christmas sausages. We'll eat first and open presents later.
Happy Holidays Dear Readers!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Oh, Tannenbaum! And A Poppy In Winter!
Christmas trees. No, Really! Christmas Trees! Before we moved to our current home, we bought fresh Christmas trees. The smell! and we could buy one for $20! 12 years ago we bought an artificial tree. After Christmas it was, hmm, I don't remember, about 50 bucks. (We'd discovered I was allergic to the freaking fresh cut Christmas tree!) We've spent 12 years setting up this old school fake tree. It is HUGE! Nearly 7 feet. Beautiful, and it has always looked so real. But... It took a long time to build, a long time to light and then another more joyous day to decorate.
Phil and I are alone. I decorate for the two of us. Maybe one or two friends will drop by. So much work for a tree that took up half our living room and nobody saw. We decided to go smaller but didn't want to pay a lot. We looked on line and found fake trees with lights ranging in price from $9.99 to $350.00. Are you kidding me? Really? We spent 2 days wandering Big Lots, Sears, K-Mart, Target, and... stupidly, the 99 Cent only stores. (Like they'd have a tree for 99 cents.) We felt stupid. We laughed and laughed.
Phil had a GREAT idea. Maybe we could adjust our old fake tree to a smaller version. OH! FREE! Turned out to be a very good idea!
We have created, from the larger tree, a smaller tree. It is now sitting on an end table between the love seat and the matching chair. It is FABULOUS. A little inventiveness and we have a smaller version of the tree we've celebrated for years. PERFECTION. I didn't have to use all my cheap decorations to fill out the tree. The tree is truly a collection of my favorite ornaments, very few bulbs. (It includes Magic Johnson, Superman and an old Brown's bulb. I have the Wicked Witch of the West and several fairies. I have several angels and two birds' nests. One year, one of my sisters gave me a collection of small Santas. They are all on the tree. I've ten apples, an odd bulb or two and some carved pieces, gifts from my time with ANGELS IN AMERICA. I have a dove on top. (Hard to see.)
The old version of the tree was so large we had to rearrange the room. The T.V. ended up blocking the fireplace. I've always wanted the candles in the fireplace for Christmas. (I'm allergic to wood fires, so..)
This year nothing in the room had to change except to put the Peace Plant in that other corner. The beautiful Orchid my sister-in-law gave me still has its place, I just added a single small red bulb. Oh! My home looks Christmasy and perfect! I'll take some pictures and post on facebook.
I will leave you with the State Flower of California. Blooming still in December:
Phil and I are alone. I decorate for the two of us. Maybe one or two friends will drop by. So much work for a tree that took up half our living room and nobody saw. We decided to go smaller but didn't want to pay a lot. We looked on line and found fake trees with lights ranging in price from $9.99 to $350.00. Are you kidding me? Really? We spent 2 days wandering Big Lots, Sears, K-Mart, Target, and... stupidly, the 99 Cent only stores. (Like they'd have a tree for 99 cents.) We felt stupid. We laughed and laughed.
Phil had a GREAT idea. Maybe we could adjust our old fake tree to a smaller version. OH! FREE! Turned out to be a very good idea!
We have created, from the larger tree, a smaller tree. It is now sitting on an end table between the love seat and the matching chair. It is FABULOUS. A little inventiveness and we have a smaller version of the tree we've celebrated for years. PERFECTION. I didn't have to use all my cheap decorations to fill out the tree. The tree is truly a collection of my favorite ornaments, very few bulbs. (It includes Magic Johnson, Superman and an old Brown's bulb. I have the Wicked Witch of the West and several fairies. I have several angels and two birds' nests. One year, one of my sisters gave me a collection of small Santas. They are all on the tree. I've ten apples, an odd bulb or two and some carved pieces, gifts from my time with ANGELS IN AMERICA. I have a dove on top. (Hard to see.)
The old version of the tree was so large we had to rearrange the room. The T.V. ended up blocking the fireplace. I've always wanted the candles in the fireplace for Christmas. (I'm allergic to wood fires, so..)
This year nothing in the room had to change except to put the Peace Plant in that other corner. The beautiful Orchid my sister-in-law gave me still has its place, I just added a single small red bulb. Oh! My home looks Christmasy and perfect! I'll take some pictures and post on facebook.
I will leave you with the State Flower of California. Blooming still in December:
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