Word(le)

Via, of course, wordle

Ann's daughter

As I was helping Mom move from Independent Living to Very Assisted Living I spent more time wandering around the community where she lives without having her with me. I had noticed over the years that people knew that I'm "Ann's daughter" -- we look very much alike, it's not that great a logical leap -- but I hadn't realized how throughly until they would stop me in the halls every other day or so and ask about her.

I told her at dinner the other night that it was a darn good thing that she had raised me to have a decent set of manners because had I been a rude, obnoxious daughter, everyone would have known exactly who had fallen down on the job.

At auditions

We've been given a scene to do and have also been given a chance to look it over first.

Assistant Director: Jeez, you people read slow.
Me: If you think we read slowly, wait 'til you see how long it takes us to memorize.

* * * * *

Two actresses have been called up to do one of the five sides they've picked up.

Actress: Oh, actually, I haven't read that one yet...
Director: Then it really will be a cold reading, won't it?

4:30 AM. Awake.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

I need to increase my carbon footprint

According to this article on Boston.com, it seems that "German researchers have shown that high CO2 levels in the atmosphere lead to wheat crops with less gluten."

Time to start leaving all the lights on at home and driving across the street for lunch. Other CO2 boosters will be added as I think of them. Pity that I walked to work today.

I recommend following the link just for the "you mean, we might lose....?!?!" list. Welcome to my world, Boston.com

And, by the way, here's a very nice Going Gluten Free article from the Los Angeles Times "Journal Times."

I learn another useful thing from the internet

I have an automatic Google search for "Leta" which turns up some interesting things for me, a few of them from the Latvian News Agency "LETA;" a few because Google seems to believe that the word "let's" counts as a "Leta" sighting; a few reminding me that Frank Leta in Missouri has car dealerships; and many, many of them because, it seems, that if your first name is Leta (or if you have a daughter named Leta), you write a blog.

I grew up believing that I was the only Leta in the world, so this sisterhood of Letas on the internet is nice development. Mind you, none of us actually know each other or anything; I don't find cross references to other Leta blogs in my travels through the ether. But even so, it means that there are quite a few women out there who have also spent their lives correcting how our name is pronounced.* We may not know each other, but we have a bond.

So anyway, today's Google search turned up a new-ish blog written Leta the culinary student. I'm not sure why it took Google so long to find it; she's been blogging since April. I normally don't spend a lot of time on either Mommy blogs (unless the Mommy is a friend or even a friend of a friend) or food blogs** (too much rhapsodizing about food I can't have), but I'll probably keep checking in on Leta for a while because 1) she's starting an externship at a restaurant in NYC and that sounds interesting; and 2) she includes cooking tips, like the one below, instead of just recipes for pastries.

Another trick I learned allows you to tell how cooked a steak is in the middle without cutting into it. Press your forefinger and thumb together and feel the fleshy spot on the outside of your palm in between your thumb and forefinger. This is what a well done steak feels like. Press your middle finger and thumb together for medium well. Your ring finger and thumb give you medium. Your pinky and thumb give you medium rare. If you don't touch any fingers together, that fleshy spot should feel really soft, just like a rare steak. Kind of gross, but very handy!

*Reminder: Lee-tah, long "e" like in "sweet", not Lett-uh, short "e" like in "letter."

** Big ol' exception, Anne's Food

Yet another Note to Self

When I joke to a friend that I should just consider scheduling a melt-down instead of waiting to be taken by surprise, perhaps I should take that as a warning.

Amazing the number of things I learn about my state of mind by listening to myself talk.

How to support local farmers

1. On your way home from an event out River Road stop at the little farm stand on the north-bound (west-bound?) side.

2. Pick out three nice peaches; three small, pretty plums; and a nice tomato.

3. Decide against adding some sunflowers to your purchase because there are already some very pretty flowers in the kitchen from Bridget and Michael from opening night.

4. Pay the man the $3.23. Give him exact change for the last three cents.

5. Drive home and realize about five blocks short of getting there that you've left your produce behind.

6. Hope that the guy running the farm stand was able to resell those items so that at least someone got some good out of your mistake. Well, someone in addition to the Farm Stand Guy...

7. Sigh.

It's not the $3.23 I'm so sorry about - it's the Maryland-grown, nicely ripe, just ready to eat summer treats I'm regreting.

Sigh.

Even though I don't actually wear the dance belt

Wil Wheaton has a written a post that most actors should read both before and after every audition.

The pretty white ships...

All Around My Hat

Incorruptible is deliberately anachronistic which has all sorts of time-tossed music running through my head as we get the show ready to go up. Now, naturally, no one could consider herself a college medievalist who wasn't familiar with Steeleye Span, so this song seems to be nudging Apollo 100's Joy from the top of the list of "my current braingum."

Want it stuck in your head, too? Here 'tis! But I'm sure that it won't get at all stuck in your head. Not at all. It's perfectly safe to listen to and will leave your memory practically as the song finishes. You won't be humming it at the coffee maker or in the elevator because it won't be stuck in your head. Nor will you turn it up and sing along until your Boss shuts his door.

Steeleye Span - All Around My Hat / Farewell He

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.

Fare thee well cold winter and fare thee well cold frost
nothing have I gained but my own true love I've lost
I'll sing and I'll be merry when occasion I do see
he's a false deluding young man let him go farewell he

Other night he brought me a fine diamond ring
but he thought to have deprived me of a far better thing
but I being careful like lovers ought to be
he's a false deluding young man let him go farewell he and

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.

Quarter pound of reasons and a half a pound of sense
a small sprig of time and as much of prudence
you mix them all together and you will plainly see
he's a much deluding young man let him go farewell he and

All around my hat I will wear the green willow
and all around my hat for a twelve month and a day
and if any one should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it
it's all for my true love who's far, far away.