Mitt Romney:Liar.

Of course we know he's willing to unsay what he just said and disavow policies that actually helped hundreds of thousands of people in Massachusetts, and now we know he'll just lie, lie, lie like a rug. (I'm a little law with this post, but better late than never.....)

Pork Cake on Fire

Many years ago I spent an evening with Melissa and her ex-husband (I think) and our friends Josh and Ana, who have long since also split up. We were in Josh and Ana's Brooklyn Heights apartment, which was just about the perfect Brooklyn Heights apartment. Charming and slightly off-kilter, it was three flights up in a brownstone, the kitchen was in a pass-through between the living and bed rooms and you had to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. It had two cats, this lovely study off the living room, and, I think, a mantle. In any case, being in that apartment at that time with those cats and those friends was very reassuring, even cosseting, and the evening I'm thinking of may even have been some kind of holiday like Christmas or New Year's. Whatever it was we (or I) ate just an enormous amount, and I purposefully didn't save any room for dessert because I knew Melissa had made something from one of the Laurie Colwin books (Home Cooking or More Home Cooking) that involved whole lemons and suet, or what I understood to be the fat that's wrapped around the pancreas of a cow. I wasn't expecting much, but, you won't be surprised to read, my expectations were all wrong. I was completely devastated when I bit into my bit of suetty, lemony, toffee-liquor-drenched stuff to discover nothing short of perfection on a fork. I don't remember anything more about the dessert (like it's name) but I do remember being so sad that I'd already eaten so much because I knew I was about to eat a whole lot more of that dessert, personal comfort and health be damned. It was something, that dessert, and this post on Melissa's web site, with its recipe for pork cake that one sets on fire before drinking too much reminded me of that very, extremely, lovely, and filling, night. Happy Holidays!

E-Books, Revisited

Lately, the thought of curling up with my Nook to read a good Book just makes my toes curl. I know I'm not the only woman giving up on screen reading. K.J. Dellantonia, our new Motherlode blogger, has done the same. I wish my reasons for not wanting e-books were as clear as hers. She wants her kids to see her reading. This means Ms. Dellantonia has "quiet time" in her house during which they all read together. We don't have that. Then again, my kids are early readers so I shouldn't feel bad yet for not having quiet reading time. I can wait for two years from now when, I hope, my kids will be reading away but not during the quiet time when we all read together. No, I'm not that into e-books just BECAUSE. Because I'm tired of screens being everywhere and doing everything. It's not that I don't appreciate the screens I use. I've come to quite like this new computer, and I'm not ready to give up my TV, even though I watch it less and less. But, I can't help it. I still like reading books that are only books and don't glow, except, you know, on the inside. So will I read Villette, my next big not-chilrden's novel, on the Nook? Or, will I get it from the library? I guess we'll just have to see how long this jag of grump lasts.

The Secret Garden

For a while now I've wanted to write something about The Secret Garden. I read it for the first time a few weeks ago, and when I started it, I thought, "Oh this is magic!" But the more I read of it, what with what happens to Miss Mary Quite Contrary in dank, infected India and then how she blossoms once returned to the moors and sent outside; and then how the lovely and pan-like Dickon comes along and opens the secrets in the garden Mary's found; and then how Dickon's mother, and mother to 13 others, Susan Southeby, is full of motherly wit and wisdom, not to mention the kindheartedness to buy a poor little rich girl a jump rope; and how Colin is discovered and saved....well, it all got to be a little too much. I was going to suggest it was, possibly, the weirdest children's books ever, but then Marjorie Ingall blogged about what I'd forgotten was actually the weirdest children's book ever. Now I'll just say it's an extremely odd and discomfiting book for all it doesn't recognize about itself. It's all that unconscious reinforcement of the healing power of rosy cheeks and fresh milk that makes me nervous. I know that sounds kind of awful, because really, what could be wrong with rosy cheeks and fresh milk? But there are things deeply wrong with said cheeks and milk The Secret Garden because the author seems to think they're So Right. For odd and off, I suppose I'd rather read a book like Coraline which knows that it's being very odd and plays with the whole idea of the big English house, along with some other pretty wonky ideas about mothers and power and buttons for eyes. All this to say, I may never hand Helen or Elliot The Secret Garden and say, "You've got to read this!" Then again, maybe I'll do exactly that, because if I do, Helen, at least, won't ever read it, at least not for a good long while, and I think that may be AOK.

Celebrity Sighting: Carla Hall!

There we were, waiting on the line to board the train from Washington, DC to New York City, and there she was, red glasses and all. My husband said, "Did you see the chef?" It was all I could do not to run up to her and gush, politely, discretely, briefly, about the love.

Love that Carla Hall.

Bridesmaids, Revisited

Back in June, I saw Bridesmaids and really enjoyed it. I thought it was funny and smart and portrayed at least some of what really matters in women's friendships. Sure Kristen Whig's character Annie was going through a very hard time, but nothing about it seemed overly bad for the world of the movies, even though she was going through a seriously rough patch.

Last night, David and I decided to watch a movie. We were all set for a pure escape, total fun, no problem. We were ready for the Anything Goes of movie night. We decided on Bridesmaids. Turned out that since I myself am in a bit of a rough patch and coming off a week of a stomach bug that hit every family member, it hit me a little bit harder. The movie still had some almost perfect comic moments, but it seemed sadder, more strained, even more restrained. Maybe I just have to give up knitting during movie night (because I was knitting the lights were on), or maybe Bridesmaids isn't Wedding Crashers. It's about actual relationships and not exactly escapist when that's all you really want. Then again, our plan B for movie night was Blue Valentine, maybe we made the right choice.

New, New, New Computer!

Well, I did it. After five years, countless crashes, and months of living with the swirly-whirl of death as my constant computer companion, this week I finally broke down and bought a new computer. It's nice. Sleek and fast and the keyboard experience is very satisfying. But, I have to say, it's also a little off-putting, the new computer. The keyboard, with it's nice typing action, is lit up from behind and when I look at it it reminds me of nothing so much as an office building at night. I loathe office buildings and I especially hate the way they're lit up at night. I'm one hundred percent certain I'm not alone in this. Here's the other thing about the computer. It runs the very latest version of Word, which has all kinds of icons and layout options everywhere on the screen. Gone are the days of "normal view" in which a plain document and simple toolbar might fill my whole screen. I was thinking about how someone needed to tell the engineers and designers at Microsoft that sometimes less is more, and then it hit me. I may not like the new Word, I may feel overwhelmed by options when I work in it, not only because I'm so used to the old Word, but because I'm, you know, old. Or at least middle aged, and while I've never been one to be wowed by technology or especially interested in all the nifty things it can do, I'd better start keeping up a little bit more. Like exercise, getting a wee-bit more knowledgeable about technology will, I think, help me be a little bit more flexible as I age. A little more mobile. It'll give me options even when part of me really really wants to opt out. This is my theory, anyway. The problem as I see it is at least with exercise I always feel good after I do it. If I were to sit down to some reading about technology, I know I'd just want to unplug and knit. Actually, that sounds pretty good right about now.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!