I have mentioned before that my parents only listened to classical music while I was growing up. They still do, for that matter. Very rarely, certain pieces of music would come on the radio that my mother didn’t enjoy. Pieces like Ravel’s “Bolero.” I think it’s safe to say that my mother hates “Bolero.” It’s the repetition she dislikes, that and the way it makes her heart beat in the rhythm of the music, like a drum. Mom is not a fan of drums.
I couldn’t help but laugh on Sunday night when Allison Janney, winner of the Best Supporting Actress category at the 2018 Academy Awards, stood at the microphone to make her acceptance speech and the first words out of her mouth were, “I did it all by myself.” She then giggled a little and continued, “Nothing further from the truth … thank you to the academy…” and then proceeded to thank all the usual people that the winners thank.
When I was a little girl, I had a napkin collection. Every time I was at a party or event that had a paper napkin I found particularly pretty, I’d do everything I could to not ruin it by wiping my mouth on it’s papery beauty. I’m pretty sure my sleeves suffered as a result.
I arrived at work on Wednesday morning, sat down, and as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and set it on my desk beside me, across the screen came a message from CNN: “Famed evangelist Billy Graham dies at 99”. “Bless his heart,” I thought, “how happy he must be.”
We’ve been under the weather at our house recently with influenza and I don’t know what all. Let’s just say it sure makes a person appreciate being well again.
10,316 days. Or, read another way, 28 years, 34 days. That’s how long the Berlin Wall stood. It’s also how long it has been gone.
“You’ll be amazed by what you see!” “The truth will stun you.” “These people were aghast when they heard this!” “What do these Floridians eat every day for breakfast? You won’t believe the answer!” Good grief! Stop the presses and cull out the clickbait. I can’t stand the headlines!
I think I accidentally almost poisoned my family with mustard gas. I was making brine for a pork shoulder that would eventually become a meal of red beans and rice. The recipe called for apple cider vinegar, mustard seeds and a few other less potent ingredients. I mixed everything together, set it on the burner and turned it to high.
The last of the Christmas decorations have long since been put away — even the ones that had been forgotten in random corners. The hope of Easter is still a long way off. It is frigid outside, and windy, and my back yard is a vast expanse of ice, upon which strangers set up tiny homes to watch football games and catch a fish or two. If they’re lucky.
When I lived in West Berlin, West Germany, in the late 1980’s, I attended Berlin American High School. The school was comprised mostly of the children of military personnel, but there were also a dozen or more “Pan Am” kids like me, as well as quite a few diplomats kids filling out the ranks.