The San Remo 2018 Music Festival has chosen its winner! Italian artists Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro won with their song “Non mi avete fatto niente”…(“you did nothing to me”). Although R and I also loved Annalisa’s “Il mondo prima di te”, this Meta & Moro piece was stunning, was moving and, as the winner…a well-deserving piece and, in my humble opinion, a great one for the world stage…possibly as an entry in Eurovision 2018…but I am unsure if it automatically gets entered in the larger contest. This song, “Non mi avete fatto niente”, is a song of hope.…
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Today I learned to swear. Like…really. My family will tell you that like — for a million years — I haven’t been a big “swear-er”. Nope. Not super big. But — I did begin to swear — quite a lot — about a year ago…November 8th. Draw your own conclusions. Then…about six weeks ago R said to me — ‘ok, I know that you are expressing yourself in this way now….but it has been ten months….can you please stop now?’ Which I thought was pretty funny. When I lived in the South — when you wanted to comment…
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Weeks ago, before we arrived, I was talking to someone about our upcoming adventure. “You know”, she told me, “my friends S and D did this a few years ago. They were just like honeymooners”. Later that day I was talking to R. I told him what she had said. “Guess what?”, I said. “We might be like honeymooners!”. ”yeah”, he said. “Like honeymooners with bad backs.” I have to admit this just poured all manner of cold water on my optimism…but optimism I continued to try to muster. Amidst the onslaught of feeling I described in This Piece,…
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Allora…so…siamo arrivati. We have arrived. Today is Day Numero 6. When we arrived, at first, I was sure, absolutely sure that I was fine. I am fine. I am functioning. I slept (un po’) on the plane…so…fine. We took a MyTaxi from MXP to our apartment in the Navigli (canals) district. We found the apartment. We opened the door. Dark. Reeking of cigarettes. I will have to adjust, I thought. Next I thought: What the devil did we do? (or WTAF if you want me to use my full expression of our language…) We will be…
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Being Human - Blessings - Darkness - Difficulty - Family - Fear - Hope - Light - Loss - Safety - This really happened.The Fire and the Roses
Eleven years ago we were getting ready to leave the house for the first seder at Jane’s house. Russ was just finishing the mowing of the lawn, our table was set with china and crystal for the next evening at our house. I heard a crackling sound coming from the kitchen. I knew that I wasn’t cooking that evening…so as I entered the kitchen I saw about a foot of smoke undulating at the ceiling above the door to the garage. I went outside and found the wall between the house and the garage aflame. Quick-thinker that I am, I…
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It was just one of those beautiful mornings in early June in the way, way North…the kind of day which starts out bright at 5 – and just gets brighter. It was yesterday. They had hired a Guide, Ben and Rob did. He was “Big Jim”. Someone to teach them fly-fishing in the Canadian Rockies. So there they were, in hip waders, in streams. Just a flick of the wrist, it is said. There is a rhythm to it – flick forward and back. And back again. The sparkling sun on the water. Standing, standing. Standing for a bit longer. Nothing…
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Among the adventures I have always wanted but never told was to be here, where I am. When we drove up we saw elk and moose and snow on the peaks. This, of course, ridiculous because I am so relieved that at home things are finally green and blooming and spring….but the snow on the mountains still makes me go “ahhhhhhh”. After yesterday’s odd restaurant encounter we decided to try the evening at the hot springs….and it turns out that I am old and fussier than I used to be about germs….and now I understand that I am truly a…
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It was late afternoon and we hadn’t eaten since early morning. We were driving the TransCanadian highway and came to Canmore. We were super starving. Oh, I said, pointing….let’s eat at that place. The building was golden yellow which is sometimes a good idea and there was parking. And outside — a jackhammer. Like a machine gun…but with more concrete dust. We walked into the restaurant. Also yellow. Oilcloth table covers and green chairs. The owner was trying to drown out the jackhammer by playing loud music: “sexual healing”. The white board advertised Bison…
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Last week I took the stage at the Madison production of Listen to your Mother (www.listentoyourmother.com) courage in hand, and told a story of aging and self-acceptance. I actually said that “stretch marks are the evidence that we have stretched ourselves for others…” — yet in the days immediately following that amazing day — and when the pictures came out — I was perseverating on the fact that I looked lumpy in my dress, that I looked intense and…tense…and was thinking how I could edit the beautiful work of Melissa Austin Photography so that I could look better, younger, on…
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I love the scaffolding. The scaffolding. I love in the city to see scaffolding against a building. I love to duck under scaffolding to go into a store to score some tea. To window shop. Scaffolding is a reminder that the city is always changing. It is always becoming. Like me. I am not just an ancient grey building but I am rebuilding, renovating. I am being remade every day. I let you all know this by stenciling on my walls Post No Bills. Like the city, I am changing but I endure. At times I need the scaffolding. I…
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She gave me permission to write this. We were all sitting on the couch watching the end of the basketball game. She, and the young one, and I. She looked at the vase of flowers and said, as Northwestern was losing the game, “Hey, those need more water”. She started to get off the couch, said she was dizzy, her legs collapsed under her. I caught her. I’ll get more water for the flowers, I said. Something didn’t feel right. I re-watered the flowers, hurried to the cabinet in search of a blood pressure cuff. It was over 180. Way…
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This week for my birthday I wanted to do something special… for someone else. I figured, eh, why not…? I didn’t really need a treat so I thought I would treat someone else. Now recently I haven’t gone to any coffee or tea houses — I have been choosing, instead, to have all my drinks from home. Breaking a habit, you might say. But….for the first time since the beginning of the year I had to pick up tea in a disposable cup — and I stopped at SB….in the drive-thru lane. I ordered one Venti Emperor’s…
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Even after it stopped working, it sat in the garage for a long time, languishing. Originally I was attracted to the design, the superior suction. I was seduced by the yellow, the shiny – the fact that I could take it apart and put it together like any building toy – and reassemble it for a different function. I thought it would be eternal. Like Legos. That it would constantly reinvent itself. Again, like Legos. In its prime, it could make any rug look new, could attract all matter of dust and detris in a matter so satisfactory that it…
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Today I was Wonder Woman. I woke up early and stood, arms akimbo, fists on my hips, next to my bed. My chest was out, my chin was up. I was ready. I went to the grocery store. I bought a cantaloupe and some rhubarb. Success. Best day of the week, so far. Last night L told me the story of a woman whose life presented such significant challenges that in order to keep up her own spirits she would adopt the Wonder Woman stance, fists on her hips, chest out, chin up and arms akimbo — before she proceeded…
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I am in a place where we count short blocks and long blocks. Yesterday we went from 74th to 31st – it took no time at all because it was short blocks. I love the short blocks! Two buildings – three, maybe. A few doorways – lickety-split – you are on the next street! I can make a lot of ground by the short blocks. I can really get somewhere. I can get somewhere – faster. But ahhhh…there is definitely some charm to the long blocks. On a long block you and walk and walk and walk along tree-lined parkways,…