When all else fails, I tell myself – “This too shall pass.”
Pep talk available at Knock Knock.
Nora Ephron was on my mind all week. I’ve pored through glowing tributes and re-read a few of her essays that gave me so much pleasure. No doubt in her honor, Sleepless in Seattle was on TV last night. Despite being in awe of her enormous talent, I could barely get through the film. In the last scene, when the characters played by Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan finally meet, I’ll admit to welling up. But as the couple walk off into the sunset, uh, I mean elevator, holding hands with eyes locked, I was skeptical about their happy ever after.
Curtains, 2007, Robertas Narkas
Manicurist, speaking English slowly:
How many children do you have?
Me, startled out of a foot massage stupor:
Uh… (I make the sign zero with my hand not soaking in water.)
Manicurist
Are you married?
Me, looking around at the women close beside me. I don’t want to be having this conversation:
Uh… (I shake my head no)
Manicurist, getting insistent:
Have you ever been married?
Me (I can’t believe this is happening. I shake my head no.)
Manicurist, raising her voice in disbelief:
NO? WHY NOT?
I’ve been thinking about Nora Ephron all day. By all accounts, she lived her life well.
The Summer Day is by the great poet, Mary Oliver. Illustration by Lisa Congdon.
Sometimes, I eat cookies for breakfast. I’m on Twitter when I should be reading a book. I refuse to give up my martini. What about you?
Image via this isn’t happiness
It was a quintessential California night. Immersed in a hot tub, framed by a eucalyptus grove near Santa Barbara, I looked up at a starry sky, and was blissed out. All I could feel was goodness. Back to L.A. grit 48 hours later, I’ve still got no complaints. That’s for another day.
Untitled, 1964, by Ellsworth Kelly
Update to Rummaging Around for a Superhero:
As a reward (or maybe bribe) to a few brawny friends who’ve agreed to haul a propane tank out of my car, through the garage, up the elevator, down the hallway and onto the patio, to connect it to the gas grill, I’m cooking dinner. It’s a wonderful recipe for Chicken in the Pot by Dorie Greenspan. Following dinner, the three of us humans, accompanied by our three dogs, are all driving to Santa Barbara for a summer solstice parade. (Surfboard not included.)
Photo by Yassine Ouhilal
Mulata Cartagenera, 1940, by Henrique Grau Araujo, is on view in New York as part of the exhibition, Caribbean: Crossroads of the World.