Ugh. It has been raining for two solid days. Intense puddling.
And face masking.
Rainiest December on record. Rainiest year on record.
Daughter #1 is on her way back to NYC. Daughter #2 heads back tomorrow.
Onward and upward.
So hey, there’s only a week of February left! March is in sight! Spring is on the horizon, right?
I only ask because I have been shivering in my office all week, reduced to wearing a wool shawl around my shoulders because it is so freakin’ cold! Here’s the local weather report:
Some areas are seeing temperatures below zero this morning. Snow flurries are on the way for tonight, plus freezing rain this weekend.
But at least we don’t live in Niagra Falls, NY where the famous falls have frozen. Zut alors!
Moving right along…Today is the birthday of Ansel Easton Adams (February 20, 1902 – April 22, 1984), American photographer and environmentalist.
The Tetons and the Snake River
Winter storm in Yosemite Valley 1942
Ansel Adams in Yosemite 1942
It is also the anniversary of the death of the great Broadway star John Raitt (January 29, 1917 – February 20, 2005). In his honor, I suggest you watch this show-stoppin’ scene from The Pajama Game (1957) where he and Doris Day sing with gusto and precision one of the hardest darn songs to sing ever written!
Aren’t they great? This always reminds me of the episode in season 5 of Angel when Lorne (of the Deathwok Clan) has to listen to every staff member at Wolfram & Hart sing a song so that he can tell if they are hiding something. One girl sings “There Once Was a Man” and it is pretty funny. I guess you had to be there…
On the Episcopal Church front, we remember Frederick Douglass on the liturgical calendar today, the anniversary of his death in 1895.
Almighty God, whose truth makes us free: We bless your Name for the witness of Frederick Douglass, whose impassioned and reasonable speech moved the hearts of a president and a people to a deeper obedience to Christ. Strengthen us also to be outspoken on behalf of those in captivity and tribulation, continuing in the Word of Jesus Christ our Liberator; who with you and the Holy Spirit dwells in glory everlasting. Amen.
We are grateful for the lives of Ansel Adams, John Raitt and Frederick Douglass and for their contributions to our American culture. And we are grateful that the coach stopped by for dinner!
He moved some big boxes for me. Wasn’t that nice? And it’s Friday! Have a great weekend. Stay warm!
So look at this:
J. Crew put my mantra on a t-shirt. Once again I am hipper than I supposed.
And guess what? It’s Friday!
I am, as usual, looking forward to my weekend. I have no glamorous plans beyond finishing this book
which is not bad–Robert Galbraith, aka J.K. Rowling, knows her characters and the dialogue is quite good. The action moves right along. A couple of people at work recommended it and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised.
I will also continue to scrape wallpaper glue off the walls of an upstairs bathroom.
Don’t worry–I won’t be home all weekend. I plan to go to an Evensong service where the boy’s childhood friend (and Best Man) is preaching. The RSCM (Royal School of Church Music) choir camp will perform. All my children attended this camp at some point, the boy for the longest duration. He even went to one in North Carolina. Anyway, that should be fun, if not super-fun.
The weather the last few days has been unbelievably beautiful–cool and not humid–and so unusual for this neck of the woods in July. I am extremely grateful. It is the kind of weather that makes you glad to be alive.
Take a deep breath and say, “Smell the pine in your nostrils!”
Okay I’ll explain. My best friend in the third grade Nancy went on a family vacation out west and she wrote me riotously funny letters. In one she described how her mother was continually saying, “Smell the pine in your nostrils!” Somehow this vivid picture stayed with me through the years and I used to say it to my children when they were growing up. We would giggle. Perhaps they will say it to their children.
Anyway, tout va bien! Have a great weekend.
We have enjoyed a really nice June in our flyover state–relatively cool and lots of rain. This is certainly not always the case! So it is good to take a moment and think about how nice it is.
The grass looks great and has not started to burn up yet.
The flowers are happy.
And the tiger lilies are starting to pop!
We can enjoy open toe espadrilles
and more hours of daylight. Lately it has been cool enough to actually work in the yard after dinner.
And here’s a fun fact: The Horse Soldiers (1959) was released to movie theaters 55 years ago yesterday.
This is one of my favorite John Ford movies. It’s the one where a Union Cavalry outfit sets out from northern Mississippi and rides several hundred miles behind confederate lines in April 1863 to destroy a rail/supply center. Based on a true story, the raid was as successful as it was daring, and remarkably bloodless. The Horse Soldiers was filmed on location in Natchitoches Parish Louisiana along the banks of Cane River Lake and in and around Natchez, Mississippi. The locations give it a real sense of place and authenticity that Civil War movies don’t always have. The plantation house, for instance, where Towers’ character lives, is a real antebellum house and not Tara.
William Holden plays a doctor who immediately comes into conflict with the commander of the mission (John Wayne). The officers are overheard discussing their secret plan by a clever southern belle (Constance Towers) who must then be taken along to assure her silence. Holden is a great foil for Wayne, who, in my opinion, gives one of his best performances. He has a couple of really memorable scenes, such as the one where he explains to Hannah Hunter why he hates doctors. Nobody could break whiskey glasses like John Wayne.
It should also be noted that the Duke is very sexy in this movie and the sophisticated William Holden never has a chance with the leading lady.
The main female character is also a refreshingly good one. She has some depth–she is smart and spunky and well-played by Towers.
The Horse Soldiers also includes a large number of great Ford character actors–from Anna Lee to Hoot Gibson, Strother Martin, Denver Pyle, Ken Curtis, Hank Worden, and even the always bizarre O.Z. Whitehead–all playing clearly defined people.
These characters are but one aspect that sets apart Ford’s films from the vast majority of run-of-the-mill movies made over the years. But this aspect is huge. All the minor characters have a line or two and all are memorable.
You remember them all: the officers, including Major Gray, an actor quoting Tennyson (“Blow, bugle, blow”) and Colonel Secord, almost a senator (“This would look great on my record”), as well as the enlisted men (“You told us it was all right as long as we could see the top of her head.”), the deserters (“We’re confederate, but we ain’t hostile–honest”) to Lukey, Hannah’s devoted slave (“Contraband? That’s me, ain’t it?”). The Horse Soldiers also includes the leg-amputating scene with Bing Russell (Kurt’s father) which traumatized me as a child.
Anyway, The Horse Soldiers is my Friday movie pick. Sure, it’s another reminder that they don’t make ’em like this anymore, but c’est la vie.
Bah humbug!
Yes, we are a wee bit annoyed in our flyover state. However, you may recall that last year at this time we had 12.4 inches of snow! So big deal, right? What’s a dusting?
Besides, this is just a minor set-back. It does feel like spring is almost here. There are Robins in abundance. Songbirds are singing. Have you heard “Peter! Peter! Peter!”? According to BirdWatcher’sDigest.com, we should also be listening for woodpeckers drumming and owls hooting. Look for raptors in clumps or pairs and ducks in flight.
Take a deep breath. It smells like spring.
Meanwhile I have my spies in Florida. They send me photos of this guy.
Hello, Mike Matheny. How ya doin?
A new month has commenced! March, the weather forecasters predicted, would come in like a lion.
From “Katy and the Big Snow” by Virginia Lee Burton
They sure had everyone in a tizzy of expectation. Church was even called off yesterday! (The rector is in the holy land–is this what happens when the cat’s away?) In fact, most churches in the area canceled all services because of the expected 10″ of snow/sleet. Unheard of in the “olden” days! Can’t say that I wasn’t pleased to be able to stay in bed and read Olivier and Parrot by Peter Carey.
I also finished The Sweet-Shop Owner by Graham Swift, which was well-written and held my interest, but I can’t say I recommend it unless you are in the mood for a depressing story about post-WWII England.
But back to the weather and our snow-pocalypse that didn’t happen.
In fact, not much happened.
But Spring will be here before we know it! You know this is true.
Here’s evidence:
P.S. I did not watch the Oscars. I watched Serenity (2005) which was nominated for no Academy Awards (although 8 years later Chiwetel Ejiofor was nominated for Best Actor in 12 Years a Slave). However, it is a favorite of mine. I am a leaf on the wind…
N.C. Wyeth, “Snow Platform”
Well, we are digging out from more snow. Aargh.
So here is a poem for a snowy day. The last verse is rather famous, but perhaps you have forgotten the earlier part.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, 1923
*William Shakespeare, “The Two Gentlemen of Verona”
We had a snow day yesterday–so there was no going in to work–but there was plenty of work to be done at home.
Daughter #2 and I toiled with shovels to clear the long expanse of driveway which was covered with 10-12 inches of flyover snow. In 0-degree weather.
It was cold. Bundled up as we were with our Philmont gear and layers of clothing, it was still so cold.
But we worked on and cleared a trail.
And then we drank wine in front of the fire in the afternoon. And read books.
It was 5 o’clock somewhere.
* George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Yes, yesterday we had a blizzard.
I ventured out in my trusty college boots, but the snow was way over the rolled cuffs of my jeans and the wind was howling so I headed back inside.
I put away the rest of the Christmas decorations–back to the basement–and tidied up. A blizzard is a great time to get one’s house back in order.
I also responded to some new interest in my old blogpost on the Sand Creek Massacre. The comments section was blowing up! I heard from a Japanese-American who lived as a child in the Amache Internment Camp during WWII and also from a retired history teacher who lived in Lamar, Colorado. It is amazing how the internet connects people.
Blizzards are also excellent for encouraging reading without guilt. I finished re-reading Sackett by Louis L’Amour. L’Amour, you will recall, was the author of 89 novels, 14 short-story collections, and two full-length works of nonfiction and was considered “one of the world’s most popular writers” during his lifetime. A lot of what he wrote is not that great, but I like Hondo and Sackett. As I have said before, sometimes you are just not in the mood for great literature and need a good yarn.
“People who live in comfortable, settled towns with law-abiding citizens and a government to protect them, they never think of the men who came first, the ones who went through hell to build something.
“I tell you, ma’am, when my time comes to ride out, I want to see a school over there with a bell in the tower, and a church, and I want to see families dressed up of a Sunday, and a flag flying over there. And if I have to do it with a pistol, I’ll do it!”
Sackett–a man after my own heart.
Today, of course, is a snow day as there is no getting out of our driveway. Daughter #2 and I shall attempt to clear it. Onward and upward.
*e.e. cummings
Well, as of Sunday, most of our leaves are off our trees
and on the ground.
Boy oh boy, are they all over the ground. We had quite a storm on Sunday morning. When I came out of church, the sky to the west was awesome.
It was a record-breaking 80-degrees and sunny, but the wind was whipping up. I said to the man next to me, “We better batten down the hatches!” and my friend Carlos, stepping outside, exclaimed, “Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” Indeed.
I hurried to my car and as I drove the 5-minute trip home, the leaves seemed to attack my car. It was bizarre. As I reached my garage, the raindrops started to fall. I rushed inside to get my camera and headed back out the front door. But the rain began in earnest and then the hail, so I quickly retreated back inside. It was an amazing storm with lots of wind and hail, but it was over in about 8 minutes. Then the sun came out and the storm moved on, picking up strength on its way to Illinois where the really bad business hit–including an EF4 tornado.
I spent most of the weekend recovering from last weekend in NYC and a busy week at home. I watched When Harry Met Sally, which as you know, is a classic Nora Ephron romcom shot in and around the city. You gotta love old Billy Crystal, especially in this scene:
I also watched Martin Scorsese’s documentary The Last Waltz (1978) which is a filmed account of the Band’s farewell concert appearance on Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1976. The Band (Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, and Richard Manuel) were joined by a dozen special guests including Bob Dylan (they were his back-up band in the 1960s), Neil Young, Emmylou Harris, Joni Mitchell, Neil Diamond, Van Morrison, Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton and more. I was not cool enough back in the day to know about it, much less appreciate it, but I can now. It was really great and I highly recommend you watch it…perhaps on Thanksgiving! (I, of course, will be watching Planes, Trains and Automobiles.)
Van, Bob and Robbie
I also watched the new documentary about J.D. Salinger on Netflix Watch Instantly.
I watched the whole thing, but there was nothing new to me. They go into some detail about his horrible war experiences in WWII when he participated in the amphibious landing on D-Day and fought on through the Battle of the Bulge for over 200 days, including the horrendous Hurtgen Forest, and concluding in the liberation of Dachau. This is legit as it had a great effect on him. Who wouldn’t be affected by that? But mostly it is a lot of second and third-rate writers who are jealous and resentful making comments. Awful people like Gore Vidal. Why is it so hard to understand that a writer who is largely misunderstood wants to be left alone? It makes perfect sense to me. People have always had such ridiculous expectations of him. I guess it is all that unrequited love.
He was not crazy. (And neither was Holden!) Personally I think it speaks volumes that the local people of Cornish, New Hampshire closed ranks around him and protected him for all those years. They liked him. He went to the bean suppers at the Congregational Church. Also his friends, like Maxwell Perkins’ sister, protected him. It’s all the rest–the ones he wouldn’t talk to–who are so resentful. Who suggest he was pretty weird. I don’t think so.
*Franny and Zooey
dual personalities 