Watched Julie & Julia with my daughter, Wisteria, tonight. Her kung fu loving 9-year-old self was put out at the prospect of seeing a movie about cooking. We both got into it however. Meryl Streep was warm, wonderful voice and mannerisms dead on. Or so they seemed to me & brought back memories of watching Mrs. Child demonstrate recipes with a guest or co-host. This was in her later years, when a solo effort seemed taxing. One time she had on a baker from LaBrea bakery in California & they discussed measuring (her way) vs weighing flour (his way). I liked very much that she made herself available to be an observer and a student. She also seemed a little testy & very human.

One pleasing/novel/alternate universe thing about the movie: I noticed was that the men were definitely supporting characters and ideal husbands: loving, attentive, supportive, encouraging. I guess that would put the film into the minority "chick flick" category robust populated by romantic comedies. Disconcerting that would be so noticible. The previous movie Wisteria & I watched the beautiful female lead unstuck the knife she had been stabbed with in a blood-gushing, heroic effort to save her true love. She sacrificed herself like so many of her filmic sisters. Le sigh.

I hate the custom of starting an action movie with a female being killed dead to serve as the catalyst for setting the grieving hero into motion. In Mad Max it took a long, agonizing while for the lives of the hero's wife and child to come to a tragic end. I remember the tortuous, drawn out suspense of the motorcycle gang zeroing in. (MM is probably the reason I'm not taken with steam punk fashions as well.) More recent movies don't bother with the foreplay. They dispense with the whacking off prelimaries right away. Revolting convention.

tired with a capital T, whew! that was hard, too tired to press shift key, hosted son's friends for sleepover, they kept going 'til past 3 am, fueled by what? adreneline, comradery, happiness, flashlights; up early this morning short order cook in a vintage apron, french toast, scrambled eggs with cheese silver dollar pancakes, big pours of maple syryp, color coded melamine cups

thrift store finds today: camel colored cashmere coat for husband, makings of princess costume for daughter, spare disney princess dresses with crumpled tulle, beaded shawl, mini harem pants, wool blazers (mock Channel, loden from German maker) heavy, almost felted, yellowy green coat, also German? for self, trying to up looking a little more finished, less random,  at work, shy to see myself in big mirror, small shock, almost electrical, at seeing reflection, contrast with 15 year ago old memory

clipping on fridge of Marie Osmond with big smile at having lost 50 pounds, slender & sleek in jeans, lovely genuine seeming smile, a smile like that is a gift

alley finds

walking back from community garden with some of the last blooms of the season, purple asters, magenta zinnias, spicy marigolds, tarragon, and sage filling out bouquet, offering for faraway relations that have come into town, now near as well as dear, cut through alley with offspring, found clothes scattered on top of recycling can, more inside, small women's sizes, son exclaims, "those don't belong there", most frequent find tiny women's size, the particulars to day: jeans, poet top, gray wool trousers, wadded them up in spare arm, imagine that after a good wash will recycle into Halloween costume, Lord of the Rings character, maybe little monster dolls

2 books not to read at bedtime

Roman Dirges' Lenore Noogies here

and Caitlin R. Kiernan's  In the Garden of Poisionous Flowers there

picture perfect day in Lake Michigan

yes, mid-October, my tough, young cookies bathing in a chilly lake, warming in the late afternoon sun, playing catch with flip flops, eating apple slices, brushing off the sand, gathering rocks etched with accidental Chinese writing, going back into the water over & over again, hungry late evening, waiting for the mac & cheese, waiting for the fish, bewildered that it came without a head, batter fried pieces, back to the vacation rental, Dr. Who before bed

autumn interrupted

with a furnace blast of summer, offspring complaining about too much sun driving them away from the park to the comic book store, to mc don't dolts, clothes hung up on the line drying way fast, watering containered plant with partially yellowed leaves, how long can they stay out, a few years ago the warmth lasted, the roses bloomed into mid November, a pot of dusty miller overwintered & bloomed yellow the second year, we may wear sandals yet again, may put our city feet into Lake Michigan on the Michigan side, how long before the layers of swaddling start again?