About "Cranford"....

Wow. I was not prepared for the death and unahppiness. So often, I find myself offended by brutal manipulation of my emotions, but in the case of "Cranford", I am going to be forgiving. Being a single woman (who considers herself single-by-choice) I felt the pain of the women of Cranford who remained unattached. As a person who has found and lost love, I really felt the pain of those women who remained unattached when that was not their choice. I wondered throughout the episodes why these women didn't speak up when I would have. Why didn't she tell her father she was in love with major whoever and why didn't the rector's daughter just say to the doctor that she needed some space to process her brother's death. Why why why? Because that would have ruined the story, duh.

So, I loved it. Immensely. I loved the familiar faces (Willoughby-yum), the town, the country side, the clothes, the animals, the etiquette....all of it. I want to visit the town of Lacock and go to a May day festival like when I was a kid.

Ooooo. "Little Dorrit" comes on tonight. :)

beautiful foggy morning

I think this was last Friday when we walked out into this thick fog. We should have fog like this at least once a week. I know it is hard to drive in this kind of weather, but it isn't too much to ask drivers to be a little more careful. As I waited for the bus people and cars emerged from the fog like magic. It was a perfect morning to NOT be waiting for a bus and to NOT be going to work. I should have walked to enjoy the cloud on earth, but I didn't. Lazy much?

the soup

Here is the red lentil soup I made from the NYT.com. I did change it slightly, adding fresh ginger and using beef broth instead of chicken or vegetable broth. Next time I will definitely use a different broth, but the beef really added heartiness.

Yeah, that is me enjoying the soup. Seriously, I am going to make this stuff again very soon. My parents might appreciate a pot of it.

A few of the reasons I want to move back to York, PA

And a good dvd would be.....?

"Cranford"

http://www.bbc.co.uk/drama/cranford/

I think I could Judi Dench myself to death. Whenever I think of her I imagine her as Lady Catherine de Bourgh who swooped down on the Bennett's in the middle of the night to interrogate Elizabeth Bennett and tell Mrs. Bennett her garden is very small. I LOVE IT. What I loved most was her wig. It was fierce and regal..like it would fly off her head to feed on small animals. She's is also so full of mature sexuality and in a very real way.



Here I go...... delving into the Ancestry.com fueled fantasy world filled with English/Irish/Scottish/Welsh ancestors. Sigh. I will be ok before my lunch break is over...I hope.

"it had a buoyant, lemony disposition grounded by a profound cumin and chili backbone."

photo by Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times

For that description alone (which should be printed on a t-shirt), I am dying to make this red lentil soup. Thank you Melissa Clark. Your words about this recipe I found yesterday are music to my ears. http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9500E3DD1739F93AA35752C0A96E9C8B63

I have been eating Dixer Diner's red lentils for the past few days and have had the urge to make my own. How hard can it be? The idea of the cilantro and lemon are real turn-ons. Making this soup is on the number one spot of my weekend TO DO list.....well, not really. It's number 4 on this list:

1) drop my kids off at my parents

2) buy a HUGE bottle of wine

3) go grocery shopping

4) cook good food

5) watch good DVDs

Lunch date with Lucy

http://kitchen-notebook.blogspot.com/

Just click on the link above. WAIT! Before you do that be prepared to be entranced for a undetermined period of time. I am at work looking a blog to peruse over lunch (spiced lentils and injera) at my desk and I found this loveliness. Just look at those images. Ms. Vanel is my lunch buddy for the day.

Lalita Pandit

In a search for poetry written by Asian poets, I found "Kashmiri Poets & Poetesses". http://www.koausa.org/Poets/index.html Once there, found Lalita Pandit. I don't know anymore about her than what is on that sight and what is written about her on Wikipedia, but I know that I love her writing. What draws me to it is what draws me to all 'exotic' (in quotes because we are all exotic to someone, somewhere) poetry. The images, smells and sounds conjured trigger my curiosity. They make me want to be there. Pandit writes about her personal and cultural history. She makes me what to know more about her relationship with her family, their interpersonal interaction and their faith. I've been reading "Sukeshi has a dream" on the subway, to and from work and it transports me into another world. It's one of those things where if I don't tear myself away from the page, I will miss my stop.

http://www.koausa.org/Poets/LalitaPandit.html

Stressed

I can not express how stressed I am feeling. This is why have not posted in a little while. I could write about how my oldest kid has convinced me she has multiple personalities due to her raging hormones or how my youngest is being influenced by her because, well, she is her little sister. I am not going to do that. I am also not going to talk about how ridiculous my job is right now. Everyone is up in arms. It's not about the economy. It's about petty and childish things. It's about peoples feelings and attitudes.

I want to talk about my life when I retire...in 19 years. UGH. Anyway, I am going to move back to York, Pennsylvania, where I grew up. We lived in Dallastown, a suburb of York actually. So, York is a small town about 2 hours north of DC. The culture is conservative, as I remember, and pretty republican, but I am not going to let that scare me. The cost of living is way lower than it is here. Ideally, I want to buy a house there in 5-10 years and use it as a weekend/vacation escape. In my dreams I receive about 2 million dollars, quit my job, collect my parents, their dog and my brother and move...today. Unfortunately, there is no 2 million dollars and my girls are only in the 4th and 6th grades and taking them out of their school is not an option.

I want to sit in my backyard and smell the grass and honeysuckle. I want to plant those yellow flowers I used to not like at all....are they crokus or something. I want to ride a bike to the market on W. Market St. and furnish my house with antiques.

I need to not think the next 19 years are going to feel like today felt. Seriously.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/York,_Pennsylvania

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mXZ18THjRnN9_lqzjJZ9pg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIrgkZK1wt-aywE&feat=directlink

Michelle Obama is an attractive woman. She is a mother, she is educated and she is the president's wife. Where does it say that she has to be dowdy and unattractive? Why is it such a big deal that she has arms and takes care of her body. If we have to be so concerned with her physical appearance, why aren't we tearing apart her height and her hips. Why are republicans and other women so afraid of her sexuality? Do republicans and other women not possess sexuality? Maybe that is the problem...well part of it. Embrace all of yourselves people. You are not just your job, your degree, your title, or your position in society. You are men and women and without expressing your sexuality (in a healthy way) you become monsters. Keep your bottled up frustrations to yourselves when judging Mrs. Obama. Keep your thinly veiled ideas of black women being overtly sexual or not sexual at all to your bigoted-selves. Yes, I said the "b" word. Just because bigotry has been so faintly laced into the psyche of humanity for generation after generation does not mean we have to keep quiet about it. Frankly, the bigotry is so loud its making my ears bleed.

Here is an interesting excerpt from a Maureen Dowd (who understands) article on NYT.com:

March 8, 2009
Op-Ed Columnist
Should Michelle Cover Up?
By MAUREEN DOWD

"Let’s face it: The only bracing symbol of American strength right now is the image of Michelle Obama’s sculpted biceps. Her husband urges bold action, but it is Michelle who looks as though she could easily wind up and punch out Rush Limbaugh, Bernie Madoff and all the corporate creeps who ripped off America.
In the taxi, when I asked David Brooks about her amazing arms, he indicated it was time for her to cover up. “She’s made her point,” he said. “Now she should put away Thunder and Lightning.”
I’d seen the plaint echoed elsewhere. “Someone should tell Michelle to mix up her wardrobe and cover up from time to time,” Sandra McElwaine wrote last week on The Daily Beast.
Washington is a place where people have always been suspect of style and overt sexuality. Too much preening signals that you’re not up late studying cap-and-trade agreements.
David was not smitten by the V-neck, sleeveless eggplant dress Michelle wore at her husband’s address to Congress — the one that caused one Republican congressman to whisper to another, “Babe.”
He said the policy crowd here would consider the dress ostentatious. “Washington is sensually avoidant. The wonks here like brains. She should not be known for her physical presence, for one body part.” David brought up the Obamas’ obsession with their workouts. “Sometimes I think half the reason Obama ran for president is so Michelle would have a platform to show off her biceps.”
During the campaign, there was talk in the Obama ranks that Michelle should stop wearing sleeveless dresses, because her muscles, combined with her potent personality, made her daunting.
She ignored that talk, thank heavens. I love the designer-to-J. Crew glamour. Combined with her workaday visits to soup kitchens, inner-city schools and meetings with military families, Michelle’s flair is our depression’s answer to Ginger Rogers gliding around in feathers and lamé.
Her arms, and her complete confidence in her skin, are a reminder that Americans can do anything if they put their minds to it. Unlike Hillary, who chafed at the loathed job of first lady, and Laura, who for long stretches disappeared into the helpmeet role, Michelle has soared every day, expanding the job to show us what can be accomplished by a generous spirit, a confident nature and a well-disciplined body.
I also have no doubt she can talk cap-and-trade with ease and panache."

Song, by Susan Downing-White

I know I have been pretty emotionally unstable lately, but I have to say, when I found this artist's work online, it brought tears to my eyes. I am a sucker for a landscape and love this woman's landscapes. Her name is Susan Downing-White and she takes me where I need to be. In a description of her work, someone called her landscapes melancholy. I call them alive. I couldn't find an image of my favorite work so you have to go here to see it:

http://www.coleprattgallery.com/artistdetail.php?artistID=1009&titleID=12322#

My favorite is 'Places East of Here VII', 'Rare sighting' and 'Song' above. When I look at these paintings I feel the constant current of life. How you know no matter what happens, the wind blows, birds fly, the sun sets and rises....you know. I feel our smallness and the natural world's awesome, oblivious bigness.

why life is hard

After a weekend of complete and utter despair, I have dragged myself out of the doom and gloom to reach a feeling of content. You think about all the suffering people, those with no job who can't house and feed their families and those with terminal diseases, faced with their imminent death...and those who are just miserable (I may fall into this category every now an again). Of course after I think of all the pain in the world, I ask myself, "Isn't it all relative?" I know people have it worse than I do....but I still feel bad...I still feel really bad.

So, Friday was THE PITS. I was ready to drive my kids to Nebraska and drop them off, then quit my job and live as a recluse in the woods behind my building. On the way home, the bus stopped on the P St bridge...and sat...and sat. Eventually, I decided the bus driver can't hold us hostage and I got off, almost failing over the railing. I walked to 21st and P St...I think...and the police wouldn't let anyone walk any further. Then the police on the motorcycles started to come, then the black cars, then the black cars with flags, then there he was, Barack. He was looking out the back seat window, deep in thought. People around me start hooting and hollering...high fiving each other. It was interesting how happy he made them feel while for me (me who loves the entire Obama family) felt tired and sad at seeing him. I struggle with thinking of the President as metaphor for hope (hope for everyone) and thinking of him as regular though exceptional man and thinking of him as a political leader. Seeing him made him more 'regular man' and I think my sadness was based in self-pity because I know very few exceptional men...or women.

I have seen him before and he touched my shoulder. I didn't speak to him because I was too busy making sure I got really good pictures. I didn't.

It is my 41st birthday today. Will someone buy me this concertina?!!!! Pretty Please.

My little one told me she was going to fail if I didn't get her a freakin recorder that she has been asking me to get her for weeks. So I googled music stores in Takoma Park and found there is one right up the street from me, the House of Musical Traditions, http://www.hmtrad.com/. Such a lazy mom. We went after I got home from work. Oh my goodness. What fun. They had instruments from all over the world and the sales guy, Paul, was amazing. He talked to us about all the instruments and let the girls play them. The were a little out of control, but Paul and the owner seemed to love it. I loved it, too. I decided I have to learn how to play the accordion...then I saw these little lovelies called concertinas. That is a concertina at the top of this post. I want to be like the woman, Licia Maglietta, in that movie "Bread and Tulips" http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0237539/ She plays this awesome waltz on the accordion. It is a great movie by the way. Last night I got the recorder, my older girl got a set of 'spoons' and I gat on egg that you shake. Its filled with sandlike stuff....I can't think of the name but I love it and its blue.

When I can do it, financially, I am going to get a concertina (a beautifully painted red one) and a pink ukulele for the girls.

National Gallery of Art love

One thing I absolutely do not like about myself is how I don't visit the National Gallery of Art on a monthly basis. Yes, I think I need to go once a month and I think I just might do that......maybe. I could have a routine of every third Sunday or something like that.

I need these catalogues:

http://shop.nga.gov/nga/category.cgi