Crimson and Clover
On April 6, 2018 by Speranza
Before and after the Easter holidays, I traditionally take a few days off to complete projects I have been meaning to return to (I’m looking at you, streamlined recipe binders) no longer flinging ragged sheets everywhere as I try to squeeze your gaping three rings closed with an arthritic crocodilian snap. But in-between bursts of energy like this, The General and I have shut the doors against the snow and wind and taken to wandering around with cups of scented tea and wedges of sticky Baklava, talking for hours about topics as diverse as Sidney Bechet, British trade unionists (to be fair, we were considering The Perfect Dog Name for a dog we do not have – yet) and soon to be perused Roberto Bolaño, the poet that Patty Smith mentions so often in M Train.
In short, it’s my idea of bliss.
The Party Line
On February 17, 2018 by Speranza
I remember reading in a psychology book, a simple but intriguing quiz in which one presents the following scenario to a friend:
You are at a party, everyone is chatting and enjoying some food and drink. For some reason, you are called away and leave the room.
What do you think that the guests are now saying about you?
I tossed this out to Frasier and Niles when they were hanging out having a beer with me in the kitchen one airless, summer evening. Niles really struggled and couldn’t come up with much. He questioned why they would be thinking anything at all and laughed that he didn’t much care anyway as he loped across to the fridge. Frasier, on the other hand, frowned and shrugged, shifting about in his chair; but when pressed, he admitted that he thought they would most likely be thinking: Hey, who brought THAT guy?
Which made us laugh. A lot.
For myself, I wondered if there might be a universal discussion as to how particularly unattractive I was.
SPOILER ALERT: Try it yourself before reading any further: what do YOU think these guests would be saying?
February Blahs
On February 10, 2018 by Speranza
There’s a meme depicting a vintage woman with her head in her hands and the caption reads something like, “being a woman is like having a browser with 3,000 tabs open all.the.time.”
This is so, so true. At any one time, I can be thinking about a new recipe I want to try, whether or not I have time to go to the market, that spot under the door where an ambitious wind is literally sucking the heat out of the house, a subsequent trip to the hardware store for draft edging (maybe on the way to the market?) why I haven’t called my brother(s) lately, which kind of seeds I should start for the spring, if it’s worth pursuing a skin regimen that would include coconut oil, debating whether tomorrow is the time to begin afresh with a stretching routine and some actual meditation and then throw The General off completely by asking him randomly if he also thinks (as I do) that Coco Chanel’s famous boyfriend Boy Capel as seen here, looks exactly like Harry Connick Jr. right in the middle of a post-breakfast discussion about the British Raj in subcontinent India …
I think it can be quite alarming for him.
Merry Christmas 2017: Analysis
On December 31, 2017 by Speranza
Niles asked for a “whizzer stick” this year (my own bastardizational term for an immersion blender) but in the few days since Christmas (which feel like as many years) I have felt as though someone has lowered one into my emotional core. I don’t know if I am the only one who needs to just sit and stare at the wall after Christmas but after ten solid days of cooking, cleaning, fretting and trying to pretend I don’t feel like hiding in a closet with some (decent) gin, my tranquility resources are, (in keeping with the season) in the red.