Got a lovely note today from a current student: Hi Beth, I will break any unwritten contacting the teacher rules to let you know that I ordered a copy of Loose Woman from Book City in Bloor West Village some time ago. They just phoned to say it is ready for curbside pick up. When I asked when I could pick it up, the clerk said, "As soon as I finish reading it. It looks really interesting." We laughed and I told him to feel free as I can't pick it up today. He laughed and said, "I just have a few pages left!"
Does my battered writer's heart good.
Each day bleeds into the next, with a few highlights - Monday teaching, Tuesday teaching, every other Thursday teaching, an occasional piano lesson or Skype call to France or Zoom with Judy in Vancouver - dates and times to fill the vast blank space in my daytimer. It's cold, and I've barely been out for days. Monique is freaked by the virus mutations and will only meet outside, not distanced by my fire, as before. But when it's really cold, I do not want to sit on her porch, no matter how many blankets she provides. So even our aperitif is off, for now.
My son came over today, though, bringing company and joy. He's in fine form, a happy man despite the chaos of the world. He's growing his hair for the first time in decades - it's nice hair, and I'm glad to see it again. There's a lot of it, though his father teases that might not last.
So that's it. Somehow the days vanish - eating and sleeping, we lay waste our powers, to paraphrase Wordsworth. I try to move my body, to get to my desk or practice the piano, do some cooking, read something good, and sometimes succeed. I waste far too much time, still, on social media, though the orange blowhole is no longer a horrifying distraction, instead - it's a bird it's a plane no it's SuperBiden! I watch Netflix - The Dig, a lovely British film, reminding me of a visit to the Sutton Hoo treasure at the British Museum; a bit more of the French series Call My Agent and tonight with Sam one episode of another French series, Lupin, terrific but too much tension for me; watched a documentary about Pauline Kael, another about Spielberg, Sunday night PBS dramas. Welcome distractions. It all flows by.
Pandemic Winter, a poem by Beth Kaplan. I'll write it as soon as I stop eating this piece of peanut butter toast and watching the otter pond live streamed from the Vancouver Aquarium. CUTE. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxYribbndTM&feature=emb_title&fbclid=IwAR00l_1YK83N7mt3sxKiXNn1wNshc-9HdlY6bqGgVBUtUhOcJ3ksKCu80r4
Finally, as a special treat for you, a particularly beautiful picture of someone I often overlook. They were all spectacular. Even, I am forced to admit, in his own special and goofy way, Ringo.
Isn't that George? (My favourite Beatle, btw.)
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely, that's a particularly gorgeous short of George. As you might know, Paul is my fave followed by John and then George, who was passive-aggressive but beautiful. But then what makes me marvel is that all four were beautiful and so very talented in so many ways. Not like the Stones, for example, with Mick in the front and the others. Here were four equal contributions to the whole. Magic.
DeleteThat is a very good point - about the four Beatles and their contributions. I think Keith Richards and Charlie Watts are impressive, though I agree about Mick's front-and-centre role.
ReplyDeleteKeith and Charlie are impressive, but no one would call them beautiful. All the Beatles were, and equally talented in certain ways, though John and Paul were the geniuses. And - ahem - Paul most of all. (Paul Girl since 1964 here...) Rondi, have you read my 60's Beatles memoir "All My Loving"? It includes a description of seeing the Beatles in concert twice in one day in June 1965. A high point of my life, still.
DeleteI thought I had replied to this - apparently not! I am actually on a wait list at the library for your "Loose Woman." Unfortunately, "All my Loving" is not at the library. I will check Amazon.
DeleteRondi, "All My Loving" is in the TPL - they have 3 hard copies! Hope you can access one.
DeleteI don't watch much tv -- I don't have the metabolism for most of it -- but wow, I did love The Dig. (I was reminded in a way of J.L. Carr's novella, A Month in the Country, for the pace and the sense of inevitability.)
ReplyDeleteI don't know the novella, Theresa, will watch for it. I watch TV, as you know from the blog, but specific programs rather than turning it on and flipping channels. Except on a really bad day, LOL. When it presents something stimulating or moving, the box can feel like a really good friend. Especially now, when really good friends are far away.
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