2013 In Movies

As I've read through blogs this week, it has become clear that 2013 was not a banner year for many of us.  It was a tough year for a lot of people for a lot of different reasons.  My hope is that 2014 is better all around for all of us.

My motto is "When the going gets tough, go to the movies."  This year was slim on my kind of movies at the theater, though I saw a few good ones.  A valid substitute in my house is Netflix.  This year my list includes more inspired-by-real-life movies and documentaries than usual.  I am serious about picking only the best of the best, so this year I have only nine movies that I highly recommend over all others.

In January I rented The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel because I wanted to see it again [I will own this movie someday].  This movie speaks to me about growing older and not settling for the way life has always been just because that might be easier than making a change.  This movie gives me hope that there's still a lot of living left to do.  Judi Dench is wonderful.

In April I watched The Intouchables on DVD.  I found it hard to understand the premise of the movie when I saw it previewed in theaters, so I passed it by.  By the time it was on DVD I had read positive press that sparked my interest.  It required a commitment of my total attention because it has subtitles, which was not an issue when I finally sat down to watch it.  Totally worth every minute, this is a unique story based on the actual life of a man confined to a wheelchair who hires an unlikely companion.  Their story is inspiring.  I immediately recommended the movie to a friend who swaps Netflix recommendations with me, and she loved it, too.

In July I saw The Way Way Back at the theater.  I have already raved about this movie here.

For our anniversary in September Ken and I saw Still Mine with a friend at an independent theater in Damariscotta, Maine.  I had seen previews of this film, which stars James Cromwell and Genevieve Bujold, about an elderly couple who fight authorities so they can build a more manageable home in their town in rural New Brunswick.  The story is true; the grit and determination are to be admired.

From the first preview I knew I wanted to see James Gandolfini's last performance in Enough Said.  His co-star is Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and the story is about first impressions, misconceptions, miscommunication, and how hard it can be to make things right.  I liked this movie a lot.

Stories We Tell is a documentary written and directed by Sarah Polley, who interviewed family and family friends to gain a deeper understanding of the life of her mother, who died when Sarah was eleven years old.  The story that unfolds on film is pieced together from a variety of perspectives because no one has the complete picture.  This is a mystery that is solved right in front of us...

As is the story titled Searching for Sugar Man.  I thought I knew what this documentary was all about and started watching it while I was sewing.  Halfway through the story took a turn I didn't expect.  Now I was paying attention!  I enjoyed the music so much that I'd like to have the soundtrack, and I was so interested in the details that I watched the DVD again with Ken.

Over Thanksgiving weekend my daughter and I watched Much Ado About Nothing - the black and white production by Joss Whedon released here in 2013.  It's the modern telling of a classic Shakespearean romance.  We give this movie two thumbs up.

I will finish my recommendations for the year as I started, with a movie starring Judi Dench.  The difference is that Philomena is a true story about a woman and the journalist who helped her search for the son who was taken from her when he was three years old.  Yet it's so much more than that.  This is a movie about faith and forgiveness and not giving up.  It's about searching for the truth, whatever that may be.  Have tissues handy.  I was the last one out of the theater because I had something in my eye.... 

Winter Weary

Baby Kenneth and his mom went home from the hospital on Christmas Day.  Both are doing well.

We were without power for 60 hours.  It returned at noon on December 26, which meant we had a different kind of Christmas this year.  The generator kept us in lights, heat, and running water during the day.  The silence at night complemented the total darkness.  Just one week after the solstice, we are already weary of winter ~

Snow on the roof of the shed

Ice-covered evergreens

Ice crystals gleam

Blue sky background

Sunday night the snow returns

The meteorologists say tonight's storm is fast moving and will drop several inches in just a few hours.

My youngest traveled back to Boston tonight, where the warmer temperatures mean rain instead of snow.  Before he left he asked if I was alright, that I seemed sad.  I am alright, and I am sad.  The two are not mutually exclusive.  It feels as if this year has gone on forever ~

Ice Storms And Newborns

The freezing rain started Saturday night and continued intermittently through Monday.  I took a few photos Monday, aware of the sound of cracking branches as I opened the door to look out.  The lights blinked throughout the day Monday, and I thought we had dodged a power outage until the house went dark late Monday night.  I was vacuuming and had a long list of things to do, including posting here, before I went to bed that were not possible in the dark without power. 

You see I was behind schedule because I've been preoccupied since Sunday morning when I got the call that my daughter-in-law was in labor.  I baked cookies and put lights on the tree and worked on Christmas presents but my mind has been elsewhere.  Time between phone calls was excruciatingly long.  That is life when you are three thousand miles away and events are moving more quickly than they can possibly be relayed to anyone who is not actually present.  So Ken and I waited, tried to keep busy, and forced ourselves not to think about what might be happening so far away....

The relief we felt when we got the call at 4:00, our time, Sunday afternoon is impossible to describe.  Kenneth Harold was here and he was okay!  He weighed in at 8 pounds and is 20 1/4 inches long.  Need I say how beautiful he is?  His entrance into the world was a bit rocky, but he is doing fine and he looks great in a hat.  His mom is doing well, too, and they expect to be home tomorrow or the next day.  Prayers answered.  Christmas wish granted.

Tonight we are still without the benefit of electricity from the power company, though we are fortunate to have a portable generator.  I managed for 15 hours before Ken got home from New Hampshire, who arrived bearing hot coffee and a strong arm to pull the start cord on the magic gasoline-powered machine that brings light and heat.  Certain electronic devices pull too much juice to be drafted into service, as in the stove, microwave, dishwasher, washer, and dryer.  So my daughter offered to make us dinner at her house ~ she made her own birthday dinner and it was delicious.  We hope for the return of power by morning but will get creative with the "electric" fry pan if it's not.

We are fully aware of our Christmas blessings this year.

I wish all the best of the season for you and yours ~

Rural Mail Delivery

Snow started fast and furious last evening and fell well into the night.  Ken was working late in New Hampshire and wisely decided to stay there instead of traveling the three hours home.  We have five new inches, which is a manageable amount....

Until I need to shovel out the mailbox.  That five inches turns into fifteen once the plow has cleared the road, and all that snow blocks the path to the mailbox ~

The mail carrier needs to access by car that buried mailbox ~

Which requires clearing the path on the way in ~

As well as the path on the way out ~

This is rural living.  We do have a snow blower, which I find unwieldy and difficult to control.  Ken likes me to leave the snow alone because I don't get the clean edges he does when he blows.  That plan works until he's not here and I want the mail to be delivered.

I have always been willing and able to shovel now.  At our old house I went to great effort and expense to have our cracked, bulging driveway excavated and paved.  It took two contractors, two years, and several thousand dollars, but that driveway was a beauty to behold that I could shovel in about the time it takes me now to clean out the path to the mailbox.  Ahhhh, rural living....  

Not A Moment Too Soon

The calendar has not yet turned to winter, but the weather has.  It's mid December and we have a fresh blanket of snow nine inches deep.  The covering of white suits the landscape just fine, and I'm glad the shed was buttoned up in time ~

Venture Capital

I ventured out of the stillness on Tuesday.  Our snow-covered dirt road was nicely packed down and easy to travel.

Then I hit pavement...what a mess.  The temperature hovered near freezing, so the sand and salt kept the middle of each lane clear while the slushy snow along the edges challenged the tires.  The main road was better in some places and worse in others.

I had a couple stops to make before I got on the interstate headed south.  I waited for the mail to be delivered before I left home so I was already two hours behind; I wasn't traveling on a deadline but I wanted to get where I was going before dark.

Then the skies darkened and big wet flakes started to fall.  I had stopped to buy a book in Brunswick.  I watched where I stepped on the uneven brick walkway and thought that this experience was good for me.  Too often I opt for the warmth and safety of home instead of venturing out.  I need to continue to drive in all kinds of weather to keep my skills sharp and my senses tuned to accommodate changing conditions.

The interstate was slick.  The speed limit had dropped to 45 and state troopers were a presence.  Most people were driving carefully, so I hunkered down for the long haul in the right lane.

Thirty miles down the road the snow stopped.  Night had fallen.  I had good directions and a general idea of where I was going.  I made a pit stop at a rest area and felt confident that all would be well.

It was.  I pulled into the hotel in Dover, New Hampshire at 5:00.  Ken was on a job and said I should come over for a couple days.  I hadn't been to that area of NH just across the Maine border, and I had no reason not to go.

Dover is another mill town that hit the same rough patch many New England towns did when the manufacture of textiles and shoes moved south or overseas.  I talked to a guy who grew up in Dover and has had a yarn shop there for eleven years.  He sees a resurgence.  I would agree.  I complimented his shop and took in the sights of Dover ~

Cocheco River flows through Dover

Converted mill provides commercial and residential space

Painted mural runs the length of this building

Shops in Dover

A variety of businesses

Looking toward downtown

I spied two policemen on horseback

Waiting for the "walk" signal to cross

Gently Falling

The snow started this morning, and by afternoon it barely covered the grass ~

Out each window I watched the gently falling snow.  I barely heard a car on the road all day.   I didn't have anywhere to go so I enjoyed the frosty silence.  It snowed all day with less than two inches accumulation.

Inside, the scarf I am knitting with antique yarn is almost finished ~

It's a simple knit two, purl two pattern.  I would like to learn to follow the pattern my grandmother used thirty-six years ago to make beautiful cables with the same yarn ~

The afghan is soft and warm and lovely still ~

Foundation

My back is better.  Before my massage yesterday, Ruth and I talked at length about what has been going on in my life and with my body.  So many things are shifting that it makes sense that my body is reacting to the changes in breathing, thinking, and being.  At one point she had her hand on the bone at the base of my spine, which was incredibly sore, and I said, "There it is.  That is at the very core of what hurts."

I am unable to find a way to make sense of or put into words all the feelings and ideas that have come unleashed.  They have lived deep inside for so long that they have become part of my foundation.  I have worked for decades to unearth where it all began, layer by layer, brick by brick.  The knowledge comes not when I ask but when I am ready.  The process takes patience and unfolds in its own time.

This evening I picked up the poetry book of Danna Faulds titled Go In and In (2002, Morris Publishing).  Her words come as close to an explanation as I can find right now ~

Foundation Stones

Here is my past--
what I've been proud of,
and what I've pushed away.
Today I see how each piece
was needed, not a single
step wasted on the way.

Like a stone wall,
every rock resting
on what came before - 
no stone can be 
suspended in mid-air.

Foundation laid by every
act and omission,
each decision, even
those the mind would
label "big mistake."

The things I thought
were sins, these are as
necessary as successes,
each one resting on the 
surface of the last, stone
upon stone, the fit
particular, complete,
the rough, uneven
face of these rocks
makes surprising,
satisfying patterns
in the sunlight.

Transition Happens

I paid a visit to Ruby today.  There have been several showings of the property that includes her cottage.  She has made peace with uncertainty - she may continue to live in her home into next year, or she may be asked to move at any time if the property sells.  Ruby is feeling healthy and strong, taking life day by day.  She is taking time to assess her belongings, deciding what to keep and what she can part with.  The main reason for my visit today was to take photos of a paper mache manger scene she made years ago and is now prepared to give away.  I was pleased she asked me and tickled to see the detail of the characters she created with her own hands ~

Isn't that great?  I will have the photos printed for her.  She says photos will take up less space than the actual scene.

It's not easy for me to think of Ruby living someplace else.  She loves her cottage, deck, garden area, and surrounding property where she walks her dog Kelly.  Today she raised a topic I have been able to avoid until now ~ she wants me to consider if I would take Kelly to live with me if for some reason the dog cannot continue to live with Ruby.  I sidestepped the issue and said that I would certainly work with her family to make sure Kelly was well taken care of.  Ruby said not to give her an answer right now.

I love Ruby and would do anything that I can to help her...but I don't want to be a dog owner.  Kelly is a sweetheart - I will have to take photos of her next time I visit.  Today she repeatedly sat at my feet and gave me her paw, almost like she knew what Ruby was saying.

Ruby has seen her doctors regularly since she was hospitalized this summer, and the latest reports on her health are excellent.  There is no reason to believe that Kelly will need to live elsewhere because Ruby has been clear that she will not move to a place where Kelly is not welcome.  Life happens, situations evolve, and over time minds can change.  Ruby and I are always completely honest with each other, so I do not want to give her the impression that I could take Kelly under any circumstances.  I am sure the topic will come up again.

Ruby is a brave lady.  She is willing to look at the changes in her life straight on.  I admire that.  In some ways she is handling the potential changes better than I am.  That's a subject for another day....