dual personalities

Tag: Weekend

July 12, 2020

I drove my Cooper

by chuckofish

This weekend the wee babes came over to play while their Mommy went to the sofa store and the wee laddie found my toy Mini Cooper high up on a bookshelf (quelle eagle eye.) No amount of telling him that it was off limits would prevail, so I said, fine, play with it. (Am I becoming a push-over?) He played with “my Cooper,” along with his “special cars”…

…and his “special book”.

When it was time to go home, however, he made quite a scene when told the Mini Cooper had to stay at Mamu’s house. (I am not a complete push-over.) He was tired, but he put up quite a fight. Later when his Dad got home from work and asked him what he had done that day, he told him all about “my Cooper.” His Dad asked if he played with the Beanie Babies etc and he said, “Yeah, and I drove my Cooper. I love that car.”

I was glad that daughter #1 had come home for happy hour, so that she could help wrangle the nutballs. We deserved those margaritas we had when they left.

Later the OM ordered take out from Amigo’s and we watched The Pajama Game (1957) and sang along with Doris Day and John Raitt.

On Sunday morning I drove my Cooper to an estate sale where I got some needlepoint coasters (can a person ever have too many coasters?) and a book. Daughter #1 found some sewing paraphernalia. She headed back to mid-Mo soon thereafter.

I FaceTimed with the infant and her Mommy. Life is quiet and our joys are simple.

I leave you with these thoughts about Life from Frederick Buechner:

The Temptation is always to reduce it to size. A bowl of cherries. A rat race. Amino acids. Even to call it a mystery smacks of reductionism. It is the mystery. As far as anybody seems to know, the vast majority of things in the universe do not have whatever life is. Sticks, stones, stars, space—they simply are. A few things are and are somehow alive to it. They have broken through into Something, or Something has broken through into them. Even a jellyfish, a butternut squash. They’re in it with us. We’re all in it together, or it in us.

Life is it. Life is with. After lecturing learnedly on miracles, a great theologian was asked to give a specific example of one. “There is only one miracle,” he answered. “It is life.” 

Have you wept at anything during the past year? 

Has your heart beat faster at the sight of young beauty? 

Have you thought seriously about the fact that someday you are going to die? 

More often than not, do you really listen when people are speaking to you instead of just waiting for your turn to speak? 

Is there anybody you know in whose place, if one of you had to suffer great pain, you would volunteer yourself? 

If your answer to all or most of these questions is no, the chances are that you’re dead.

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July 10, 2020

“Even in my customary befuddled state…”*

by chuckofish

It’s been a very busy, draining week “at work”–lots of Zoom meetings and emailing and answering of phone messages etc. Ugh. So though we don’t have anything exciting planned this weekend beyond picking out a new ceiling fan for my “office,” I am really looking forward to it nonetheless.

I liked this message from the Anglican bishop of South Carolina, Mark Lawrence. Ah yes, John Calvin was right when he said, ““The human heart is a factory for the making of idols.” Read the whole thing. (Discuss among yourselves.)

The OM and I have been watching the old 1980s British television series Lovejoy, starring Ian McShane, on Prime. It is based on the mystery novels by Jonathan Gash of which my parents were fans. The show is fun–Lovejoy is “an irresistible rogue with a keen eye for antiques. The part-time detective scours the murky sale-rooms, auction halls and stately homes of Britain, always on the lookout for a find.” Right up my alley! Auctions and estate sales! (But no murders or sex crimes!)

Besides that, I haven’t seen anything worth reporting. How about you?

Tomorrow is the birthday of the inimitable Yul Brynner (1920-1985).

So we will toast him and watch one of his great (or even not so great) movies.

It is also the birthday of the ubiquitous supporting actor Thomas Mitchell (1892-1962) who won an Academy Award for Stagecoach (1939).

Although he made several movies with John Ford in the 1930s, he was not a regular member of his corps of players. He nevertheless turns up in so many movies–everything from Gone With the Wind (1939) to Our Town (1940) to It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) to High Noon (1952) to Pocketful of Miracles (1961). We will toast him and think of Kansas City, Kansas.

As far as I can tell Yul Brynner and Thomas Mitchell never made a movie together.

Well, I’m feeling the Katiebelle vibe this weekend…

Talk to the hand. I’m over and out.

*Tinker in Lovejoy

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July 6, 2020

Cow in the road

by chuckofish

How was your 4th of July? The OM and I had a super fun time visiting daughter #1 in mid-MO. We got to eat outside and people-watch for awhile on Friday night. Schmidt and Jenko were patrolling downtown Jeff City…

…and all was well on the street until a ferocious midwestern thunder storm broke loose, causing the cancellation of the Jeff City parade and the Diamond Rio concert scheduled to be held later that night on the lawn of the Supreme Court building a block from daughter #1’s apartment.

We were bummed, but we rallied and listened to music and drank Rosé back home.

On Saturday we ventured to historic Rocheport (pop. 290) on the Missouri River in Boone County. We had lunch at our favorite, Les Bourgeois Winery and Vineyards, and drank in the beautiful scenery.

Lots of complete strangers complimented the OM on his cool shirt.

One of these is grape juice.

We also managed to visit two large antique malls and to find a couple of things to buy amid the acres of nonsense. We also FaceTimed with little Katiebelle who is endlessly fascinating.

That night we hauled our folding chairs to the roof of the House garage next to the Capitol and settled in to watch the fireworks on the river. They were the best I have ever seen and the mid-Missourians who had parked their giant pick up trucks on the roof and set up their family food stations (all appropriately socially distanced) were a friendly crowd of citizens.

Meanwhile, the wee babes were at their other grandparents’ lake house wearing this year’s trend-setting holiday outfits.

The night before the wee laddie had spent many hours in the ER after he swallowed a penny. (The text messages were flying.) They had to anesthetize him to take the penny out. It was his second x-ray in two days (see Friday’s post.) He is on a roll, but doesn’t appear to be any the worse for wear. Did I mention that he played his first round of golf?

Too much drama pour moi. Now it is time to get my head back in the salt mine game. This week is the start of our first all-online summer term. Zut alors! But first, I may have to watch a little of the real Schmidt and Jenko…

Enjoy your Monday! Stay safe and far away from emergency rooms.

3 Comments
July 3, 2020

“Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on. “*

by chuckofish

Three-day weekend! Some people say the weekend doesn’t mean much since we are home all the time anyway, but I disagree. On the weekend, I am not chained to my laptop or to the feeling that I should be “doing” something. No sir.

Since there is pretty much nothing going on in our flyover city this 4th of July weekend and the boy and his wee family are going to be at the lake, the OM and I have opted to fly the coop and head to mid-MO to visit daughter #1 in our state capitol. We will probably not join the hoards that may gather to celebrate, but we can watch out her apartment window. And there will be fireworks on the Missouri River.

We will raise a toast to our big brother whose birthday is on the 4th of July.

Yippee-ki-yay, pardner!

The wee babes were going to come over to frolic on Thursday morning, but the wee laddie fell off the deck at their house on Wednesday night and had to go to the doctor to get checked out in the morning, so I had Lottiebelle all by herself. We had a fun time playing. She is truly the queen of imaginary play and I find that if I just give a funny voice to any and all stuffed animals I am hilarious.

After the wee laddie was given a clean bill of health–he was fine, no broken bones–and they picked up Lottie and all went home, I went back to my Zoom meetings (and using a normal voice). Life is pretty strange. I try to go with the flow.

I want to give a shout out to TCM, which has quite a good line-up of movies in July. Tony Curtis is the Star of the Month (my DP will not want to miss Captain Newman, M.D. on July 13!) and John Ford movies are on the schedule every Friday. Today is a particularly good day!

I will also note that I just watched Logan Lucky (2017) again (on Prime) and I have to say, I really like this movie.

It has a smart script and a great cast: Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Daniel Craig, Riley Keough, Hilary Swank, and others you will recognize in smaller roles. It is rated PG-13 for Pete’s sake. The Hillbillies win. What’s not to like?

And this cartoon from Liz Climo is my life at the moment.

Let me say, this is just too perfect. (PS I’m the bunny. I live with the bear.)

Enjoy the weekend! Let your freak flag fly. God bless America!

*Stephen Stills

4 Comments
June 29, 2020

“I’ll keep the path open, the path in my mind.”*

by chuckofish

I had a quiet weekend. It was hot and sometimes rainy, so I stayed close to home. But I ventured out to a couple of estate sales and had some luck. I found an antique/vintage highchair, of which I am in need since we sometimes have wee twins to dine…

I also rescued a needlepoint brick!

Anyway, I was pleased.

I also did some closet rummaging/rearranging and finished reading A Glassful of Blessings by Barbara Pym. Practically nothing happens in her novels, but she is such a good writer and her descriptions of the smallest interactions are so on target, that I find her books very enjoyable.

In my rummaging I found this little doll from the Soviet Union, which my mother told me she had bought with her pennies in Woolworth’s in the 1930s. It may have been the first thing she bought herself. She is small–only about 5 ” tall.

It appealed to her and she had kept it all those years and now I have kept it all these years. How different she is from all of Lottiebelle’s Disney princesses!

I watched Destry Rides Again (1939) which stars James Stewart and Marlene Dietrich.

Stewart is well cast as the initially misunderstood deputy who does not wear a gun. Dietrich, as usual, steals the show, and everyone is happy to let her. The supporting cast is strong. All in all, it is an excellent summer entertainment.

I fell asleep in the middle of most everything else I watched. Par for the course.

Now it is back to the salt mine of working remotely.

The lark is up to meet the sun,
The bee is on the wing,
The ant her labor has begun,
The woods with music ring.

Shall birds and bees and ants be wise,
While I my moments waste?
Oh, let me with the morning rise,
And to my duties haste. (Jane Taylor)

*Bob Dylan

4 Comments
June 22, 2020

i am a little church

by chuckofish

i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
--i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
 
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
 
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
 
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
–i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
 
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

–e.e. cummings

How was your weekend? The boy and daughter #3 brought the wee babes over for a frolic on Saturday morning to celebrate Father’s Day. They mostly played with daughter #1 who was home and happily accompanied them upstairs to explore. Funnily enough they had come over on Friday morning as well (so their parents could go sofa shopping without them) and I played with them upstairs. They reminded me of Goldilocks, wishing to try out all the beds in the house.

Not that they like to nap; they like to “pretend” to nap. When we were in my room, we discussed the wallpaper and how the scenes are Chinese.

Lottiebelle looked at it and thought and then said, “Panda bears are from China.”

https://gfycat.com/constantflusteredkouprey

Their father told me that when he mentioned to the wee laddie that Olympus Mons is the great mountain of Mars (they are very into planets), the WL said, “No, Daddy, Olympus Mons is a volcano.” Are these three-year-olds not amazing? These babes who weighed less than 1.5 1bs. at birth! Think about that for awhile.

Also, I will note, that they can now go up and down stairs without holding on to a railing while holding an armload of stuffed animals/and/or/cars. This is frightening to say the least.

Meanwhile the newest wee babe continues to thrive and gain weight.

It is fun and fascinating to watch these babes grow and learn and to see my own children as parents and aunts and uncles.

Meanwhile we amused ourselves by listening/singing along to a lot of Bob Dylan–always a stress reliever. We also watched The Detective (1968) with Frank Sinatra. (I had not seen it after all.) It may have been edgy in 1968 with its subplots involving homosexuals and a sex addict wife–but it is not now. Also Frank Sinatra phoned in his performance and was terrible, not to mention (way) too old for the part. Maybe it might have worked with Paul Newman or James Garner. Whatever.

I also did laundry, vacuumed, found some baby clothes my mother made for my children and washed them, and went to an estate sale where I bought some books and rescued a needlepoint pillow.

Not bad for a weekend. Now it is back to the salt mine of working remotely where I lift my diminutive spire to merciful Him Whose only now is forever. Have a good week!

5 Comments
July 7, 2017

Oh boy, this is the day

by chuckofish

Here a few pics of the day before the nuptials got rolling…fullsizerender-6.jpgFullSizeRender-8.jpgIMG_8385.JPGFullSizeRender.jpgFullSizeRender-13.jpgFullSizeRender-7.jpgAnd a beautiful day it was! More pictures on Monday…

Daughter #1 heads back to NYC tonight and I have no plans this weekend beyond getting my house back in order and catching up on episodes of NYPD Blues on my DVR.  And, hey, I haven’t watched a movie (except 21 Jump Street the other night) in two weeks!

Meanwhile the newlyweds are halfway into their “honeymoonshine”–Screen Shot 2017-07-07 at 6.23.56 AM.png…a leisurely drive through Kentucky to Virginia and on to the Outer Banks.

Have a good weekend!

(The wedding photos were taken by my pal Becky.)

4 Comments
February 24, 2017

Shelter from the storm

by chuckofish

Friday again. The week raced by as it does when you’re busy.

How wonderful to be able to stay home this weekend and unwind!

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A cup of coffee, a book, a movie, and some puttering. Maybe I will tackle a project or two and maybe I won’t.

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One thing about growing older is that you allow yourself to take a break sometimes. And when you do, you appreciate it.

Of course, we’ll go see the darling wee babes…

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Have yourself a good weekend. Here’s a little Bob Dylan to get you started.

(The paintings are by Walter Gay, Susan Watkins, Carl Holsoe, and John Singer Sargent)

2 Comments
February 20, 2017

“And infant voices shall proclaim their early blessings on his name”*

by chuckofish

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(Napping wee babes who look like they are sitting up, but are not actually.)

Although it appears that spring has sprung here in flyover country, we all know that this is unlikely. Not to say we did not enjoy the weather this weekend!

I worked in the yard and wore myself out, but what a nice change! While outside, I watched a battle royal between a bunch of crows and a red-tailed hawk that was amazing. Such a ruckus. I gather that crows hate red-tailed hawks and with good reason probably, but count me on team red-tailed hawk.

Anyway, no matter what happens now weather-wise, it won’t be long ’til spring.

I went to church and read the first lesson (the Levitcus reading about love thy neighbor as thyself) and was also the Intercessor. The Gospel lesson was the one about “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” which is setting the bar pretty high for this week.

I started re-reading An Uncertain Place by the French mystery writer Fred Vargas, who is a favorite of mine.

Adamsberg imagined Danglard’s mind as a block of fine limestone, where rain, in other words questions, had hollowed out countless basins in which his worries gathered, unresolved. Every day, three or four of these basins were active simultaneously. Just now, the journey through the tunnel, the woman in London, the feet in Highgate. As Adamsberg had explained to him, the energy Danglard expended on these questions, seeking to empty out the basins, was a waste of time. Because no sooner had he cleared out one space than it made way for something else, for another set of agonizing questions. By digging away at them, he was stopping peaceful sedimentation from taking place, and the natural filling up of the excavations, which would happen if he forgot about them.

If you have not discovered Fred Vargas, I recommend her.

Following up on my blogpost on Friday, I watched a lot of Miami Vice, season three.

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This is always a good idea.

The boy and daughter #3 came over after a day at the hospital for spaghetti last night and that was fun.

I could use another day after such a busy weekend, but, alas, I do not have Presidents Day off. Lucky you, if you do.

*Isaac Watts (1674-1748) hymn #544

5 Comments
February 6, 2017

Teach me, my God and King, in all things thee to see*

by chuckofish

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Got to hold this little nugget this weekend. It felt real good.

I also gabbed on the phone with my dual personality and two daughters. I got my hair cut and put together two Valentine boxes to mail to the aforementioned daughters. I worked in the yard on Sunday when the temperatures soared into the fifties.

The boy came over and helped me take down one twin bed in his old room and haul it and the mattress down to the basement. Then, after carrying the pieces upstairs, he put together the antique double bed I bought at an estate sale last fall (remember?). He is one busy boy and I appreciate his coming over to help his old mother. We didn’t even give him dinner; he was headed somewhere afterwards.

I continued to read The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard–really such a treat.

The cicatrice of stitching on her gloves was an imprint on his brain. Earrings of pearl stared, white-eyed as fish. There was a streak of flowered scarf, inane, and the collar blue. Grief had a painter’s eye, assigning arbitrary meaning at random–like God.

We watched two  movies that are practically antiques–The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934) and Captain Blood (1935)–but which, in all the years since they were made, have never been surpassed on so many levels of cinematic effort. We watched a bit of the Super Bowl because the OM wanted to. Truly, I haven’t cared about football since Kurt Warner was traded to Arizona. (Except for Peyton Manning and he retired.)

I felt very happy sitting in church on Sunday. Nothing/no one annoyed me. I will try to hold on to this feeling and carry it into the work week.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

*George Herbert, hymn #592

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