Bat Aplomb = Great Hostess

 

So with a new job comes new social responsibilities.  Last Friday night I commandeered Mr. Weston and off we went to the home of the leader of my new institution.  I was giddy with anticipated delight.  What fun - more importantly, I did not have to cook.

We were having a delightful time sampling the hors d'oeuvres that were being passed around.  I was enjoying the baked Granny Smith apple slices with prosciutto skewered with brie in some kind of sauce - when a gigantic bat flew in.

I am not a bat expert, but I think that it had a terrifying 20 foot wing span.  This was discerned as it dived up and down amongst the guests.

It was one of those moments where people seemed to be frozen in time.  No screams, no panic. There was a stunned silence, a best behavior numbness.  Immediately our hostess, the institution's esteemed leader, put her skills into action and threw open the front door.  The uninvited guest soon exited.

No one dared to say anything.  Then, as if nothing had happened, our hostess exclaimed with a happy clap of her hands, "Now for something sparkling!"

Champagne for all!




 

Late Summer Mega Read

It seemed like I waited "a hundred summers" for this book when it finally came in at the library last week.  It is another mega summer read with a long wait list - which means definitely not renewable. 

No worries here.  I finished it last night. 

As I have mentioned, I don't normally read a lot of new fiction so my question is:  What is up with the trend of back and forth chapters?

This book, like the other work that I just read, goes back and forth from past to present by alternating chapters.  In this case:

Chapter 1:  1931
Chapter 2:  1938
Chapter 3:  1931
Chapter 4:  1938

I find this annoying.  By the end of Chapter 4, I went forward by only reading every other chapter then reading the chapters that I skipped.  This gave some order to the story. 

Then there was a boo boo.  Part of the story takes place at Smith College.  The characters go to a local breakfast place in Northampton.  The proprietress says,

           " Best pancakes in the Berkshires.  Ask anyone." 

Anyone here will tell you that Northampton is not in the Berkshires but in the Pioneer Valley.  Oopsie.

Then there are hysterical lines like: 

            "The waitress came in, a slaughtered lamb of a twenty-year old girl."

I pointed this bit of conversation out to Mr. Weston.  It was uttered by the male love interest: 

            "Where did you come from Lily?  You're a miracle."
            "Your miracle," Lily responds.

We have similar conversations daily.

Overall the book was entertaining enough and drama filled.  I did like the how the author's bio adroitly ended:

           "She lives with her husband and four young children in southwestern Connecticut,
            where she divides her time between writing and laundry."

The book concludes with the dreadful hurricane of 1938 where most of the characters we have come to dislike are conveniently swept off to sea.

At this point, I am heading back to the world of nonfiction. The author recommended "Sudden Sea: The Great Hurricane of 1938" which I have already ordered up.

 

The Day After the Fair

So we went to the fair yesterday.  Here are some photographs.

My favorite!
An erudite and white haired gentleman
had amassed a huge collection of milk bottles from
long defunct dairies -  when milk was actually delivered.
He was fascinating to talk to -
I took one of his cards to give to our Historical Society...

A sampling of the bounty of the county.

The winning gigantic pumpkin.
 

Preserves behind bars.
Apparently, a few years ago there was trouble -
not by misbehaving preserves but from fair patrons
handling them...
Too bad.

Hopefully the preserves had not been preserved in this kitchen.
Still, these old images were all around.

 

Another protected display.

Christmas tree vendors were advertising their wares.



Liked this fisherman's sweater in the craft hall.

Was impressed that someone actually had the talent to sew this!
Though one does not see any women
in our area wearing such things these days...

Great to look at - but oddly not locked up. 
Even better the recipes were posted.
 

Now speaking of food at the fair, I had a ton -  proudly all of it fried or sugary -  yet devilishly delicious!  There were chicken tenders in a crater of French fries, a fried oreo, a sundae, and something from a Cajun cart.  This was all washed down with a paper cup of really bad sangria in the beer garden.  I was grateful that I actually woke up this morning.

Historically speaking

 Visited with and petted lots of beautiful animals.  They were all locked up or confined.  Since they are not inanimate like the preserves, I always feel so badly for them and cannot bear to photograph them.

 

Meanwhile, thanks to Thomas Hardy for borrowing his title for this entry.

 

 

 

Call Me Lady!

So I was ordering some ballet tickets tonight and when filling out the form there was this drop down box for title.  Expecting the usual mundane, I was so excited to see this - my true title as already recognized by others!

. 

When I have I been called lady?  Here is a sampling:

• "Lady, it will cost $2,000,000 to have the pipe fixed."

 

• "Lady, you are asking me?  I'm only the cashier!"

 

• "Yo, Lady, learn to drive!" - the expletives deleted since this is a G-rated blog.

 

• "Hey Lady, you blew one!" - Not sure what this meant.  It was shouted from a car full of what had to be Mensas as I stood on a city street.

Given this, of course, I selected Lady as my official title.



















 

Don't Give Up The Garden

I was out early yesterday morning picking flowers.  It is a summer Saturday sublime thing to do.  Then one gets to feel extravagantly artistic when arranging.

Still, as I bent over with a grumble - OK it was a four letter word - to pull out what seemed to be the same piece of crabgrass that I had been pulling out all summer, I remembered the immortal words of the Greats - Aunt Pen and Aunt June,  the unintentional and infamous doyennes of this blog. 

"One must never give up the garden."

This was stated a few months ago when we went to a reunion.  As we sat at the luncheon table, a woman from their class was pushed by in her wheelchair.  The woman's name was Francis which the Greats pronounced as "Froncis!"

After appropriate noises in the way of greetings, there were the stage whispers once Francis had left.

"Poor darling thing."

"Remember when she dived off the bridge?"

"Who would have thought?

"Of course, it all started when she gave up her garden."

I inquired about this last and the general consensus from the Greats was that the decline of Francis began when she had her garden mowed down and replaced with lawn.  A veritable sin according to the Greats since "She had nothing to putter in."  Need I say that the Greats are great gardeners?

I adore my garden - most of the time and have accepted the fact that crabgrass is good for my health.

 

 

United by the Moon and Ithaca

Flopped on the sofa tonight with the intent to relax with a book of favorite poems.  But instead I looked out the window, then up, and my attention was captured by the burgeoning moon.  The book was momentarily forgotten in favor of pondering.

It occurred to me how, perhaps weirdly,  the majority of my family are Cancers. Most of us were born under that astrological sign between June 22 and July 22.  This being the case, we are moon children.  Now, please do not call me a zodiac girl.  I definitely do not dial up those numbers in the back of magazines for my horoscope.

Moving on...

Right now, given that it is summer and vacation time,  we are spread out -  oddly in places beginning with vowels - Austin, Ottawa, Ireland, and Australia.  Yet at some point and at different hours, we all see our moon.

This is the beautiful moon that I see now.

No matter where we are the moon - and nowadays, Skype - unites us.  Rather marvelous to think about.

So the book of poems that I was reading?

See page 36 for "Ithaca" which has been read at weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries.  Dad read it at my wedding...

"Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.  Without her you would have never taken the road."























 

By Today's Standards

So I was at the library recently and there was a pretty summer display of books and DVDs for children.  Featured prominently was a newly purchased set of Shirley Temple movies.  Since I like old movies, I thought that I would  try one.  I took out "Bright Eyes."

Later in the evening, I sat back and viewed shocker after shocker - that is by today's standards. 

Just see below and pardon all the exclamation points.

Five year old Shirley hitchhikes alone to the airport!!!

First, this friendly truck driver stops!
She declines.

Shirley tries again and accepts a ride from the man in this car!

This is Uncle Ned, the curmudgeon millionaire
who ultimately has a heart of gold.
He is confined to a wheel chair.

 

The house is not appropriately accessible so
this is how Uncle Ned comes down the stairs!!!

The Shirley Antithesis Character -
she is really mean and always screaming.
I think I saw her in the grocery the other night.

  

She screams that she wants a machine gun
and points gun fingers at her father while
making machine gun noises!

Planes were called ships!
So charming...

American Airlines where I formerly spent
a lot of time - this plane looks more glamorous!

A private party for Shirley is held on this plane and
it taxis around the airport!
News has come that Shirley's mother has been killed!
This car is just pulls on to the runway to flag the plane down!

At the end of the movie, the mean girl
makes yet another nasty statement and
receives a terrific slap on the face
- in a court house no less!

The Movie