Dear sweet heavens...

but I am being violently beset by hot flashes all the sudden.

Sux.

I am alive.

Just in case there was any doubt.

Books

I just came back from a week at a resort, which I thought I might spend reading books by the dozen. I didn't--still feeling a bit distracted and jumpy, but I did read one very lovely book: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender. In a nutshell, it tells the story of Rose, a precocious little girl who, the week of her ninth birthday, develops a horrifying gift. When she eats, she tastes every emotion of the person who prepared the food. In that terrible week, Rose learns that her adored mother is empty, lonely and miserable. And she begins to to shoulder the terrible burden of being forced to cope with other people's unhappiness.

I was enchanted by this book--by the dreamy quality of Rose's world (I was reminded of Ann Patchett, The Magician's Assistant in particular), by her tragic and mysterious brother, and by her precocious (think Holden Caulfield) ability to perceive the most hidden nuances of the adult world around her.

I checked out a few online reviews and discovered that many people don't like this book. They found it vague, unfinished. They hated the lack of quotation marks. Is it odd that I never noticed, for one moment, the punctuation in this work?

It was repeatedly described as being about how hard it is to love our families when we know them too well. I didn't perceive that as the theme at all! I thought Bender was exploring the mysteries of talent, of how our gifts are both blessings and terrible burdens--how they can frighten us into paralysis (Rose's father), separate us from each other (her brother, Joe), but ultimately lead us to our own particular destinies. I also felt it looked into the struggles of those who don't know how to find or use their gifts, and the havoc they can wreak as they struggle for direction--Rose's mother being the case in point.

Anyway, I didn't have a week of reading, but I did enjoy one lovely, haunting book! The rest of the time, I gazed off into the distance and thought about nothing. Which of course, is what I do most of the time.

Reading

Emma's query about June on the Old Broards got me thinking about how long it's been since I was able to concentrate well enough to really enjoy reading. I think it's been months, maybe since before Christmas. I'm just in this jumpy, twitchy place where I can hardly even watch TV. I sit down, and then I immediately get back up. Maybe it's menopause?

Anyway, I have a big stack of books waiting for me, and I hoping that I will get some good quality reading in this summer. (But you can't force it. If you're in that no reading place, you just have to wait it out.)

The only thing

that could possibly have added even MORE dignity to the momentous historic meeting between Donald Trump and Sarah Palin would perhaps have been a round of celebrity boxing...

Republican "Family Values"

strike again! I am sorry for Maria, but still laughing.

In honor of Mother's Day

Mothers and daughters:

A milestone for Ian

He bought a suit today. I'm pretty sure it's the first suit he's ever owned, and he's 27. It's not quite the first day of school or anything, but still a big day. :D

So I'm a little sad and disappointed

to learn that Nicholas Cage is just another garden variety man with rage issues. I sorta thought he was cooler than that.

April

Boy am I glad it's here. I hate March almost as much as I hate February. It sounds like it ought to be spring, you expect it to be spring, but it always lets you down.

I'm not kidding...

Although I should be. I woke up all sweaty and exhausted because I had wildly erotic dreams about Seth Rogen all night. Seth Rogen? Seth Rogen? Who has erotic dreams about Seth Rogen? I think I'm losing my mind....

Movie Night

Last night, Ian and I went to the classic movie series presented two Wednesdays a month at our local multi-plex. They take a poll each year, and then present 24 classic movies that people really want to see again on a big screen.

Last night's movie was The Sound of Music. We met CondorBlue and AforAllie there, and had a great time. It was good to see them, and they are both doing well. We had some laughs about the good old days of the Bookshelf, and Allie and I discussed how hard it is to try to explain to anyone how delightful it was--how much fun we had and how many laughs! It sounds lame and pitiful. But really, it wasn't (was it?)

The theater has a docent presentation before the movie begins, with interesting facts about the movie, how it is ranked by movie historians, etc. We were amused to hear that Christopher Plummer hated the film and later referred to it as "The Sound of Mucus." He said that filming with Julie Andrews was like being hit over the head with a big, flowery Valentine card every day. (However, the two remained good friends after the filming was over.)

The docent kindly reminded us NOT to sing along, so with effort, I restrained myself! It was tough, though!

So she came again!

I waited last Monday morning in fear that she just wouldn't show, and I'd eventually hear some apologetic explanation from Libby about how she was *too busy.* But she came again, and we got even more on top of things. I am thrilled! While she cleaned, I took on a few projects, including using leather treatment on all my leather furniture. (It was called Leather CPR and it really did a great job!)

I am ridiculous

I have a new cleaning lady coming tomorrow. My last one retired more than five years ago because she was diagnosed with lupus. She was wonderful, and over the years organized every drawer, cabinet and closet in this house. She'd clean my oven, my refrigerator--whatever she decided needed to be done. I had no secrets from Vicki. She knew the depths of my messiness and disorganization and she didn't reject me for them.

I agreed to "take over" the day and time of my friend Libby's cleaning lady when Libby recently had to move to an assisted living center. She was really fretting about leaving her longtime helper in the lurch in this tough economic climate, and was trying to find somebody to take her slot--every other Monday.

I woke up a few days ago, realized that THIS Monday was the appointed day, and immediately went into panic mode. I have been madly decluttering, straightening up, trying to organize the most embarrassingly disastrous areas of my house. It's not so much that I'm "cleaning for the maid," as that I'm trying to make it even possible for her to get to the surfaces that need to be cleaned. Now it's T-minus-24 hours, and I'm still not ready. So yes, I know that i'm ridiculous. And now, Hefty trash bag in hand, I must return to my labors.