Month: August 2014

Where have all the flowers gone??

There is something different about the world today. Something is gone, off in the distance but nonetheless palpable. It’s not often that I eulogize stars; not often that I even think of them or remember their roles or the names of their shows. This time it’s different. This … is one that I remember … almost know or think that I do. There’s always been something emotionally risky about the man, something that drove him up to the edge; something scary I picked up from him in spite of his outstanding humor, talent, supremely challenging roles. He would go too far, put too much of himself into the role. That’s what made him such a fabulous actor, but it’s also what worried me about him. There were insufficient boundaries – no limits to what he would do to fully occupy the role; to fully immerse himself in the persona of the moment. It seemed to me, always the therapist, that he didn’t keep enough of himself for himself.

That’s what scared me about Robin Williams. I always saw deep sadness, bordering on hopelessness in his eyes, even if they sparkled with laughter. In his quiet moments, in an acting role or in a TV interview, I saw his despair. Many of the things I’ve read about him: his need for an audience, his discomfort with ‘one-on-one’ encounters, his substance abuse, depression, all those things fit my ‘sense’ of him and while I think he was the finest broad spectrum actor I’ve ever seen, he always felt fragile to me. While I enjoyed him, those viewing experiences they were accompanied by my own mental subtext that read ‘this man is in pain.’

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Do You Remember My Little Red Keurig?

Well, believe it or not, the time has come! After weeks of deciding and planning and choosing and changing my mind and deciding again, the time has come. New stuff is waiting in a warehouse and soon there will be workers tearing apart my kitchen. Walls, floor, ceiling, lighting, plumbing, cabinets and countertops will all go. Everything has to be packed up and stored elsewhere. After many trips to Goodwill, the kitchen will be empty and waiting for the demolition crew.  My house will be a dust trap for weeks on end…not to mention the noise. The cats will endure the indignity of being boarded, but Daisy has agreed to endure the mess so she can stay at home and supervise the workmen. Yes, I’m sure the end result will be lovely and I can’t wait to get there, but in the meantime we’ll be eating carryout off of paper plates!

I suppose anything good is worth waiting for and I’ve waited for years to renovate my kitchen. Now that the time is here I find myself grimacing rather than grinning. All that work and mess; all that disorder and disorganization, well it doesn’t thrill me. But adapt I shall. Advice has been pouring in from my sister and several friends about things to do and ways to manage. Others have survived such things and I am sure so will I! Probably by the time you read this blog I will be contentedly settled into my brand spanking new kitchen. Say, maybe I’ll even post some pictures of it, Talaverra tiles and all!