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The Ultimate Urban Legend?
(picture found here) From Wikipedia: An urban legend, urban myth, urban tale, or, more accurately, a contemporary legend, is a form of modern folklore consisting of apocryphal stories believed by their tellers to be true. As with all folklore and mythology, the designation suggests nothing about the story’s factuality or falsehood, but merely that it is in non-institutional circulation, exhibits variation over time, and carries some significance that motivates the community in preserving and propagating it. For a hundred and fifty years, hearing the words, “Donner Party” has meant one thing. Cannibalism. I’m not sure when people learn about the Donner Party in other parts of the country, but if…
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Date Night
Phil and Claire Foster (Steve Carell and Tina Fey) are a couple that truly love each other, but are a bit worn out by life. Especially the kids in life, followed by the jobs in life, then the daily chores in life…life is wearing them out. They still make some effort, though, going out for a weekly ‘date night’ at their local steak house, where they enjoy spending a bit of time together, and laughing at their made up scenarios of the other couples around the restaurant. These glimpses into their marriage show genuine affection, almost drowned by daily life. When they find out that their friends, who have sex…
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Wordless Wednesday
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The Night Listener
I know how it sounds when I call him my son. There’s something a little precious about it, a little too wishful to be taken seriously. I’ve noticed the looks on people’s faces, those dim, indulgent smiles that vanish in a heartbeat. It’s easy enough to see how they’ve pegged me: an unfulfilled man on the shady side of fifty, making a last grasp at fatherhood with somebody else’s child. That’s not the way it is. Frankly, I’ve never wanted a kid. Never once believed that nature’s whim had robbed me of my manly destiny. Pete and I were an accident, pure and simple, a collision of kindred spirits that…
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A Mediocre Marriage
One of my favorite cookbooks is the Greens Cookbook, by Deborah Madison. Oddly enough, I’ve never been to Greens Restaurant, though it’s local and well regarded. Anyway, our friends Matt and Casey gave us the Greens Cookbook years ago, and we’ve enjoyed it like crazy. A leak from our upstairs bathtub into our kitchen a couple of years ago killed the cookbook (along with several others), but I missed it enough that I went out and got another copy. Actually, I think I received it as a gift. One of my favorite recipes from the cookbook is for Cockscombs, Tomatoes, Garlic, and Parsley. It’s simple, it’s quick, it’s healthy, and…
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Friday Randomness
(This is a lovely hookworm…want this in your intestines? The answer…perhaps. Find out more, below.) I’m behind on this whole blogging thing. I’m behind on my book review, having finished ‘The Night Listener‘ and ‘This World We Live In‘, but I haven’t reviewed them. I’m halfway through ‘Three Cups of Tea‘, but I left it at cheer-leading tryouts last week, and it’s lost, so I went to get another copy from the library. Now I’m finishing up ‘The Bride’s Farewell‘, and then I’ll get back to ‘Three Cups of Tea‘. So I guess you’re going to see a lot of book reviews around here in the near future. I have…
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April Come She Will
April come she will When streams are ripe and swelled with rain; May, she will stay, Resting in my arms again June, she’ll change her tune, In restless walks she’ll prowl the night; July, she will fly And give no warning to her flight. August, die she must, The autumn winds blow chilly and cold; September I’ll remember. A love once new has now grown old. ~Simon & Garfunkel, April Come She Will. Listen. God, I really do love them, and the poetry of their lyrics. It’s April already…how did that happen? Not sure. But April makes me think of this song, and of my mom, since her birthday is…
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Happy 14th Birthday, Maya!
Maya is 14 today, so obviously this picture is an oldie but a goodie. I have been thinking about the difference between those times when she was a preschooler, and these times, getting ready for high school next year. Sometimes I miss those times, because she was so sweet and said some pretty funny things sometimes, and if only I had had a blog then….but these times are wonderful and special as well. Watching her grow from a little girl into a teen, not too long from now into a woman…it’s amazing. Seeing the things she’s interested in, that I never was. Seeing the things she doesn’t really care about,…
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The Good Thief
Ren is a twelve-year old, one-handed orphan, living in 19th century New England. He was left at a Catholic orphanage as an infant, pushed through a wooden door in the gate one rainy night, and spends his time wondering who his parents are, why they left him here, and if he will ever be adopted. The gate was hinged to open one way – in. When Ren pushed at the tiny door with his finger, he could feel the strength of the wooden frame behind it. There was no handle on the children’s side, no groove to lift from underneath. The wood was heavy, thick, and old – a fine…
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Coconut and Lime Macaroons
(This is NOT a photo of my macaroons. I found this picture on Foodnetwork.com, here. My macaroon recipe differs in that it does not call for any dairy, and it is frosted with a delicious lime icing and pistachios as well. Pretty good stuff. I don’t know why I didn’t take a picture. Oh, right, because my pictures rarely come out the way I want them to.) My friend Cherry is planning to have a baby in about 6 weeks, so we decided this last weekend was a good time for a baby shower. Baby showers have come a long way from the horrid bets about how big your stomach…
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Breaking Her Fall
One summer night in July of 1998, Tucker Jones drops his 14-year-old daughter, Kat, off with her (slightly older) friend, Abby, in front of a movie theater. But the girls meet up with a group of older boys, one of whom is Abby’s boyfriend, Jed. Jed’s parents are out of town, and he invites the girls back to his place for a party. The party is big and gets out of control, and a few hours later, Tucker receives a phone call from the parent of another girl, telling him that Kat has been drinking shots, has gotten naked, and gone into the pool house to give oral sex to…
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Friday Randomness
Diving right on in here… I am sick to death of TVs every-damn-where. (If you’re not supposed to split infinitives, you’re probably REALLY not supposed to split a word in half, but I don’t care. Sue me.) I hate going to restaurants where they have a TV set up, and it’s happening at more and more places. Some decent places even. Not that Carls Jr is what I would call a decent place, but really? TV? And California Pizza Kitchen, and so many other places. There was a nice pasta place down the street, and they put in a big TV, and then it closed. Wonder if the TV did…
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March Forth!
Today is National Grammar Day! To celebrate, I’m freely cribbing a list of grammar myths from Grammar Girl, for your enjoyment. Full credit to Grammar Girl, though I might add a few comments here and there… Grammar Girl’s Top 10 Language Myths: 10. A run-on sentence is a really long sentence. Wrong! They can actually be quite short. In a run-on sentence, independent clauses are squished together without the help of punctuation or a conjunction. If you write I am happy I am glad* as one sentence without a semicolon, colon, or dash between the two independent clauses, it’s a run-on sentence even though it only has six words. 9.…
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Linguine with Herbed Shrimp
(photo found at a yummy cooking blog, Kevin at Closet Cooking, along with a really yummy looking recipe for a different shrimp and pasta combination. I tried to find a picture from a cookbook or something, but none looked anything like what I made. I should have taken my own photo, clearly. This looks similar, though mine had tomatoes.) My mom gave me a great cookbook years ago, Pasta Fresca. I think that was when Ted and I first moved in together in 1990. It is one of my very favorite cookbooks, partly because I love pasta, and partly because the recipes are all delicious. When cooking with recipes, my…
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Day After Night
The nightmares made their rounds hours ago. The tossing and whimpering are over. Even the insomniacs have settled down. The twenty restless bodies rest, and faces aged by hunger, grief, and doubt relax to reveal the beauty and the pity of their youth. Not one of the women in Barrack C is twenty-one, but all of them or orphans. Their cheeks press against small, military-issue pillows that smell of disinfectant. Lumpy and flat from long service under heavier heads, they bear no resemblance to the goose-down clouds that many of them enjoyed in childhood. And yet, the girls burrow into them with perfect contentment, embracing them like teddy bears. There…