Danielle Bean has a new podcast! And I got to be a part of it!
I'm excited for her, excited for you to listen, and I was excited for me because Danielle's a lot of fun to talk to. The only downside was that we had to stop talking and get on with our days. (I could have kept her on the phone for hours.)
Danielle now has several episodes of "Girlfriends" available. The fourth and latest is called, "Yell Less, Love More," in which she, as always, offers practical advice and a dose of inspiration for moms. In the last 15-20 min of the podcast, I joined her and we chatted about life, motherhood, work, and having the courage to risk failure. I also did her "Lightning Round" of questions, in which I talked about locking myself in my bedroom to write.
We have an anniversary coming up, so as an early celebration I'm dedicating today's Poetry Friday pick to Atticus.
You can go here, to The Poetry Foundation, to read "The Beautiful Changes" by Richard Wilbur, but to motivate your click, I'll slip you the final lines of this masterpiece:
Your hands hold roses always in a way that says They are not only yours; the beautiful changes In such kind ways, Wishing ever to sunder Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.
The beautiful has changed for us, in so many ways, and to say that our marriage has experienced a second finding is a wry understatement. But yes, the beautiful changes in kind ways, and leaves me full of wonder.
For more Richard Wilbur (because there can never be too much Wilbur), go here.
And in further honor of Atticus the Wonderful, I'm rerunning this post about him from 2008:
Happy Anniversary, Atticus! We've been married for 24 years -- we're practically silver! In honor of rerunning our love for 24 years, I'm rerunning a meme about our marriage. Happy Anniversary, Atticus! I love you with all my heart. 1. Where/How did you meet? In college -- i.e., in a previous life. Don't believe in reincarnation? I do -- it's just that it happens during this life, not after. It's called redemption. In other words -- the people we met back then? Not the people we are now. 2. How long have you known each other? Since 1978. 3. How long after you met did you start dating? I knew Atticus only vaguely when I was a freshman. He was an ex-Marine who scared me. My best friend said he had the handwriting of an axe murderer. I found out later that Atticus saw me in a play that year (I played the part of an 80-year-old woman dying of cancer) and said to himself, "I'm going to marry her." I was relieved to find out that he based this on my picture in the program rather than on how I looked onstage (although, it was a truly awful picture, proving that he's always had quirky taste in women.) A couple of years later, he was in a play, and I thought he looked dashing rather than scary. I made my move. 4. How long did you date before you were engaged? That depends on what you mean by "date" and by "engaged." 5. How long was your engagement? About three weeks. I said, "Hey, my parents will be in town for my sister's wedding. Should we get married that weekend, too?" He said okay. I'm not kidding. 6. How long have you been married? 24 years, to everyone's surprise. (2016 update, in case you hate doing math: 32 years.) 7. What is your anniversary? The feast day of St. Thomas Aquinas (though clearly we had no idea at the time.) 8. How many people came to your wedding reception? About 15. 9. What kind of cake did you serve? One that served 15. 10. Where was your wedding? In the courthouse. We were married by a judge (a valid marriage in the eyes of the Church, by the way, as neither of us was Catholic nor had we been raised Catholic. The marriage became a sacramental one six years later, when I was baptized; Atticus had been baptized in the Lutheran church as an infant. We didn't have to "do anything" about our marriage when I, and later Atticus, became Catholic.) 11. What did you serve for your meal? Everyone ordered his or her own meal at a restaurant. 12. How many people were in your bridal party? Two -- the matron of honor and the best man. 13. Are you still friends with them all? My sister is still my friend, thank goodness. And, yes, we still stay in touch with the best man, a friend who was also a former college professor. (2016 update: Sadly, he passed away last August.) I almost had my best friend, Jack, act as my "man of honor" but ended up deciding on my sister. ( I was, however, the "best woman" at Jack's wedding.) 14. Did your spouse cry during the ceremony? I don't think so. 15. Most special moment of your wedding day? Realizing I was actually married, that I was actually Mrs. Edmisten (although, I didn't change my name for seven or eight years.) 16. Any funny moments? No -- unless you count our entire way of doing things. 17. Any big disasters? No -- unless you count our entire way of doing things. 18. Where did you go on your honeymoon? We didn't go anywhere right away, but went to Florida about six months later. 19. How long were you gone? Long enough to get a really bad sunburn, eat a lot of shrimp, and go to Disney World. 20. If you were to do your wedding over, what would you change? On the one hand, everything. I've sometimes wondered what a normal wedding would have been like. On the other hand, nothing. God took the raw material of who and what we were, and here we are today, by His grace. Can I improve upon His handiwork? 21. What side of the bed do you sleep on? The side children always seemed to show up on. 22. What size is your bed? It's always been big enough for both of us, a cat, and sometimes a child, though I always slept better without a small child's feet in my face. 23. Greatest strength as a couple? That we both really love being home together, we both really love being parents, and we -- finally -- share our faith. 24. Greatest challenge as a couple? Agreeing on the date night movie. 25. Who literally pays the bills? I sit down to do the paperwork, overflowing with gratitude that Atticus supports the mission of a stay-at-home mom. 26. What is your song? Nat King Cole singing, The Christmas Song. Very sweet story behind it.
27. What did you dance your first dance to? At our wedding? Or ever? If it's "ever" it's probably something that involved pogoing. 28. Describe your wedding dress: It was a simple dress, probably not worth describing to those who enjoy such things ... I've never been good at describing much of anything about clothing. Most of the time, my eyes glaze over and I'm lost when it comes to talking about fabrics, beads and accessories. 29. What kind of flowers did you have at your wedding? At the time, I was sort of the same way about flowers that I was about dresses and fabrics. But, if I were to marry Atticus again, I would want just a few roses, to thank St. Therese for her intercession over the years. 30. Are your wedding bands engraved? No. They're simple, plain gold bands. I didn't want an engagement ring, either, because we didn't really do the whole engagement thing and I've never cared much about diamonds. But, I treasure my plain, gold band. It's been through a lot with us. Happy Anniversary, Sweetie. Oh, did I say that already? Well ... here's hoping I get to say it for many, many more years to come.
~~~~~
Tara Smith is hosting the Poetry Friday round up today at A Teaching Life.
Ramona and I have decided to do some drawing and sketching every day. We decorated the covers of our art journals:
and then we got started. Ramona drew a portrait of her sister Betsy as Rey (funny, because I originally blog-named her Betsy Ray of Betsy-Tacy fame) from The Force Awakens:
I love the glasses.
Here's another of Rey (I think Ramona actually did this one before we started the new art journals, shortly after our second viewing of The Force Awakens):
And this is her sketch of a pushcart
from our current read-aloud, The Pushcart War (which we are both thoroughly enjoying.)
My subjects have been a little less exciting than Force Awakens characters, but that's okay. We're having fun drawing together, promising not to compare, and not lamenting that we're not perfect.
My rendition of the pushcart, from the delightful Pushcart War:
~~~~~
Speaking of read-alouds, Ramona likes to have something to occupy her hands while I read, so she decided to make (cross-stitch? Embroider?) an Ewok.
I fell in love with The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fryby Rachel Joyce. It was lyrical and lovely. A timeless theme -- that the ordinary is actually extraordinary -- is handled with charm, humor, poignancy, and heart. Highly recommended.
Anne-with-an-e just came home from the library with Connie Willis' Blackout. So I'm suddenly in the mood to read Blackout, All Clear, andDoomsday Book.
I couldn't resist rerunning this post from 2007 about the day I discovered that little gem you were in, Truly, Madly, Deeply. Don't be annoyed, okay? As I told Miss Dashwood, I had to be given an occupation, or I knew I would run mad.
Love,
The whole world
~~~~~
(originally ran on June 17, 2007): More Truly, More Madly
This is the image that should have been chosen for Truly, Madly, Deeply instead of the silliness that was inexplicably used on the video and dvd covers.
Ana, in the comments on my earlier post, asked for more information, saying that she was highly skeptical of this film and its maker, as she was decidedly not a fan of The English Patient (which I never had much desire to see and so can't really comment about.) I've not seen Anthony Minghella's "bigger" movies and initially, I didn't even realize that this one was done by the same director.
The premise of this film has no doubt kept many potential viewers away (not to mention the bad video cover art, which seems to want us thinking this movie will be full of zany fun. Uh-uh.)
The premise: Nina (Juliet Stevenson) has lost her beloved, Jamie (Alan Rickman) and she's slowly been swallowed up by her grief. But then, one day, Jamie comes back. From the dead.
"Oh, n-o-o-o," Atticus moaned, "It's like that Patrick Swayze movie!" and he immediately lost interest (and who could blame him? And how many others have thought the same thing? I now blame Patrick Swayze for the fact that I did not get to experience Truly, Madly, Deeply much, much earlier in life.)
And, just in case you're wondering, yes, Atticus did watch it with me last night (I first watched it the night before, when he was out of town) and yes, he liked it. Very much. Not quite the head-over-heels reaction I had, but ultimately he was charmed. I can always tell he's enjoying a movie if he actually pauses it when he has to leave the room. If he casually mumbles, "No, that's okay, leave it running," I know I've got a thumbs-down on my hands.
Truly, Madly, Deeply was Minghella's very first film, and the story behind it (included on the dvd's special features) is interesting. He says it grew out of "an act of cowardice" -- he accepted the job of making this movie for the BBC as a way of experimenting with directing on a small scale, with a project he thought no one would really see should he happen to fail miserably. It was shot in 28 days, mostly on first takes.
What is it about this movie that made me fall in love with it?
Just about everything, actually.
I'll admit to being a pushover for a movie that uses Bach and a cello so beautifully. Clearly, it had me with the opening scenes.
But, there's also Juliet Stevenson's acting, which is exquisite. There's the pointed look at grief and loss, and the genuine, searing pain of it all. There's wit and a sense of humor and unexpected lines that make you laugh out loud with their sharp revelation of character. And, there is the utterly affecting portrayal of a very real love between a man and a woman, complete with in-jokes and goofiness.
I was going to try to write the definitive review of this new favorite, but then while Googling, I stumbled on this review, at a site I'm sure I would otherwise never have found. It's a near-perfect look at the movie, and I realized there was no point in my efforts at capturing my reactions. This woman has said just about everything I would have said (I have only minor quibbles) -- almost every favorite line of mine, every brilliant touch -- I might just love this review as much as I love Truly, Madly, Deeply. Thank you, whoever you are. (But, reader beware: lots of plot spoilers in this thorough look at the film.)
Here is a clip of Alan Rickman and Juliet Stevenson doing The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore.
I love Nina's giddy joy here as she revels in Jamie, who has just returned. And, as the above referenced reviewer has noted, it's going to take at least a week to get this song out of my head. Even Ramona is singing it.
Awhile back, I was talking with my editor at Our Sunday Visitor about book ideas. "I'd love to write about the process of conversion, about the things that did and didn't work for me when I was searching," I told her.
It's a personal book, with stories from my atheist days and my conversion. But it's not about me. It's about God and the way He worked on me. It's about friends of mine, people who were generous enough to risk sharing stories with me. It's about cradle Catholics, converts, reverts, atheists, non-Catholics, doubters, and seekers; it's about rebellion and love.
It's about looking around you--in your neighborhood, parish, or maybe in your own living room--and being willing to talk about the changes wrought in you since Jesus came into your life.
"I want to write," I told my editor, "about what helped me make the leap, and what hampered my next steps. About friends who proved to me that sharing the faith can be as simple as loving someone with whom you profoundly disagree."
The holidays are ending, though our Christmas tree is still up. It usually is until the Sunday after the Epiphany, the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord.
I'm in that in-between state, both savoring the last few days off with the college girls (we made gingerbread cookies today) and getting myself organized, ready to dive into schedules and routines, prepping for math with Ramona.
But when the holidays end, holidays aren't over. "Secret anniversaries of the heart" happen all year.
Here's to the coming year, here's to a 2016 full of "happy days unclouded to their close."
Holidays
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;—
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;— a Fairy Tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.
