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February 2008Best Morning Surprise Ever!The most gorgeous painting ever arrived on my doorstep today. I feel so lucky and blessed. I am hanging in the family room, because that is where we spend the most time. Just looking at this painting causes a celebration in my heart. It’s funny because today started like any other day. I woke up and was schlepping around in my over-sized pink fluffy bathrobe that was a birthday gift two years back. It is an extra large and can wrap around me twice, but it was the last one left in the store and it was so soft and comfy looking that I figured, who cares if it’s a little big? I’ll look cute and tiny all snuggled up in it. And so on my birthday wish list it went. Well, things that are way too big might seem like they’d make me look all cute and petite in my imagination, but the reality is something far different. I drown in that bathrobe. It is not a good look for me. Not only that, but it doesn’t breathe. And as any woman who is going through the throes of hot flashes knows, a robe that doesn’t breathe is not a good thing! It’s the dead of winter and still this robe is too warm for me. I find myself, more often than not, sneaking Don’s robe out of his closet and prancing around in that instead. Anyway, I was a little slow getting myself out of bed and so once I managed to drag my tired body from the cozy-calling-to-me comfort, I didn’t have time to lollygag and put on a full set of clothes, so on went my pink robe, cinched at the waist and I flew down stairs to make some omelets and toast for breakfast. We ate. Don and Will left for school, and I just settled into check my emails when there was a knock at the door. Who is that? I went to the door, peeked through the blinds. A delivery man! Could it be? Is it possible? I’ve been anticipating the arrival of a painting for a long time. I knew it would be beautiful. All the artwork I’ve seen on Rosie’s blog is. But I didn’t know what had been sent, all I knew was “a large painting.” I cracked the door open. Two reasons. The robe, and the dogs going delirious with excitement behind me. “Can I help you?” I asked, because maybe it’s the painting, but maybe it’s something else. Legal documents or dry old boring paperwork. “I have a painting,” he says. The guy’s hair is more white than grey. He’s short, with a pointy beard. “Oh good,” I say, as soon as the jolt of oh-my-goodness passes through my body and my lips work again. “If you could just put it on the porch.” “No way that’s going to happen,” he snorts. “This thing weighs 125 lbs. Can’t manage it alone.” “Oh...oh...” I start hopping around. “Oh dear. Alright. I’ll get my shoes. Just a minute.” I must have looked a sight. Brown leather shoes, an enormous saggy pink robe, unbrushed hair (I say that like I brush my hair on a regular basis. Ha!) Somehow between the two of us we managed to stagger the large wooden crate/box to the top of the stairs. I think it was one of those Herculean moments where a mother manages to lift a car off of her child. That kind of thing, because that box was HEAVY! When he leaves I fly inside, get dressed and grab my screw driver and a hammer. Those were long screws holding that box together! There were a LOT of them. I got cramps in my forearms and started to get blisters on my palms until I was clever and went inside and put on a pair of gloves. But let me tell you. When I got the crowbar part of my hammer under that lid and lifted the top off, and got the painting out...OH MY GOD! I almost fainted! It was THE painting. The one I had seen a picture of and loved and wished that I had. It was THAT one! I haven’t stopped smiling all day. I am a very, very, VERY lucky woman! An image of me just flashed through my head of me, leaping around, clicking my heels together, a-la-Gene Kelly in Dancing In the Rain. That’s how happy I am inside. Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, February 07, 2008 in West Vancouver SecondaryI just came from a talk with a creative writing class at West Vancouver Secondary School. They are working on Biography, so to encourage them to be brave with their writing, and to dive deep, I probably was way more candid than they wanted me to be. For example: I was answering a question about something and flipping through my book Singing Songs when it fell open to the chapter, Pooh Pie. I figured it must be a sign. “Oh,” I said, gaily. “I’m going to read you this. It’s quite funny.” I read Pooh Pie with gusto. Those of you who have read Singing Songs, know the story and understand that it is generally not something that one brings up within 15 minutes of meeting a roomful of anybody, let alone teenagers. Poop Pie! I don’t know what possessed me. I normally avoid reading that piece out loud. Not my most glamorous moment, by any stretch. And then...I really don’t know what got into me, but when I was finished, I wiggled my fingers at them and said something like, “Oh yes...you had no idea what these hands have done! Anyone want to shake hands?” Very classy, Meg. Oh well, that’s what happens sometimes. I guess because I’ve spent so much of my life, covering up, telling the public relations spin rather than the truth, it’s like now, with the Q&A portion of my talks, I never know where my answers are going to lead. Let the inviter beware! Speaking of which, this is the second time I’ve visited Sarah’s class and yes, you can tell she is a good teacher, inspires her students, because they asked such smart questions. Writerly ones. And it’s wonderful thing for these teens that she is their teacher. She is intelligent and passionate about writing, and I admire all these things but you know what I’m really envious about? My god can that woman put together an outfit! Two times I’ve met her. Both times she was wearing this amazing eclectic mix of vintage/new/I-don’t-even-know-what-you-call-it, but I want to be able to dress like that. Honest, we went into this room before it was time for the class, and she was talking and I zoned out for a minute because I was fantasizing about her whisking me off on a What-Not-to-Wear expedition, where she would teach me how it’s done. Like she was wearing this great chunky necklace made out of these really cool looking stones, with these little dark accents in between, and the color of it went so great with her sweater. And where did she find such a cute sweater with one little sparkly button at the neck? And her dress looked to be one of those cool vintage dresses, and she had a little bit of a lace under thing where it veed down. It’s like the whole thing was like a cool funky glass of water. Every piece fit. I bet she writes really well too. Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, February 06, 2008 in Chewing the Fat Meg’s made up muffinsMy brother Ben wrote that he’d made my buttermilk pancakes! It made me so happy. I’m not sure why. I guess because I kind of figured that I was putting these recipes out there, but that nobody was actually making them. I sort of thought that perhaps people would even scroll past the recipes to the next blog down. Well, my brother made my pancake recipe, so now I have free rein! It made me feel so cozy to think of Ben and Joline with baby Claire in her tummy and my little nephew Sam eating yummy pancakes. I got such a flash of Sam, with that faint flush that young children have, his tiny feet swinging slightly as he chewed. Not only that, but if Ben used the pancakes recipe, then who knows? Maybe other people are playing around with my recipes as well! So, I’m giving you a brand-new one. I made up this new recipe on Sunday. I woke up with a craving in my mouth and no recipe that matched, so I went into the kitchen and started fooling around and...EUREKA! Meg’s Made-Up Muffins Ingredients: butter, white sugar, light brown sugar, eggs, bananas, buttermilk, vanilla, flour, wheat bran, baking soda, salt, nutmeg, cinnamon, apples Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Either grease two sets of muffin tins,( or use cupcake liners )
Mix in large bowl
Blend well.
Measure into second bowl
Stir well - Peel, cut out the core and dice two small/medium apples (If you only have large, than just do one) Mix the flour mixture into the egg/buttermilk/butter/sugar bowl. When blended, add the diced apples. Spoon muffin batter into muffin tins and bake until the tops spring back when you press your finger on them. (Around 25-35 minutes, depending on your oven.) Serve piping hot. They taste good with a slice of butter or without. They are also good once they cool down to munch on as a snack. Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, February 05, 2008 in Recipes upon reflection…I am having serious misgivings about the eye-wear that I ordered so gleefully. Serious misgivings. What the hell was I thinking? I’m already embarrassed and I haven’t even worn them yet! When I think about them, which is not often, they get more glittery and extravagant by the second. Now, when my mind flashes on to them, they have morphed into something entirely different and grotesque. They have LARGE rhinestones instead of a tiny, barely there, sprinkle. They have ENORMOUS swooping exaggerated cat-eyes, like those eye-glasses those women wore back in the fifties, with their bleach-blond, bubble hairdos and shear hot pink or spicy red scarves draped over the top to keep the wind from blowing it. Except it’s me wearing those ridiculous glasses and my graying hair is contorted into one of those hairdos, and I am wearing too tight clothes, teetering on faux leopard print high heels and have a large martini glass tipping out of one hand. But the glasses are bought. The progressive lenses are being ground. I have paid a gynourmous deposit. Oh dear… Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, February 03, 2008 in Chewing the Fat new glassesAround two weeks ago I lost my distance glasses. When the sun is out, I’m fine because I have prescription sunglasses, and when it’s cloudy but daylight, I’m also okay because I have my medium range glasses and I can see fine just as long as I’m not trying to find my way somewhere new. See, the thing is, with misplacing my glasses is that I knew they were hiding somewhere around the house. And felt that the very minute I went and wasted all that money and time on purchasing a new pair, my old pair would come dancing out of their hiding place laughing at me. So, I put it off. Big mistake. Not so bad, last week because Don was the lunch cook so he was the one to do the morning and evening drop-off and pick-up from Will’s school. But this week, was my week to drive and even though I’ve been turning the house inside out, I still hadn’t found my glasses. NOW if I had been thinking clearly and been a normal person, I would have just said, “Honey, I really can’t see well enough to drive at night with my mid-range glasses, could you take over the evening driving until I find my regular glasses?” Or I would have gone out and bought myself a new pair. But I didn’t. I was too embarrassed to ask for help. A kick back to my childhood. Don’t ask for help, ever. It is a sign of weakness and will make you a target. Always cope. No matter what. And I didn’t want to waste the money. And you know what, for the first couple of days, I got lucky. The nights were pretty clear when I had to go and I could see okay, it was Wednesday night that sucked. It was very dark, with a huge amount driving sleet/snow falling, and to make matters worse, it had started to warm up a little bit, so there was a slight misty cloud cover rising from the road. I was scared. I realized how stupid I was driving with my mid-range glasses. I wanted to pull over and call Don, but my stupid car is STILL in the god-damned shop! So he would have no way to get to me, and Will was waiting at school and I had the only car. So I just drove slowly and carefully, my underarms sweating in my coat. The weather had let up a bit on the way home and I was fine. However, the minute the stores opened on Thursday, I marched myself down to the eyeglasses shop and chose out a new pair of glasses. Don played hooky with his writing and came shopping too. I guess it was such a novelty. Meg wants to go shopping? This I have to see! I tried on a bunch of eyeglasses. Most of them looked ridiculous. And you want to know what’s weird. I’ve always leaned towards a very conservative style of eye-wear. Practical. Not today! I started out trying on the sort of plain, old-faithfuls, but they didn’t look good. The dark frame colors were too strong against my face. At first I couldn’t figure out why everything looked so bad, and then I realized that I’ve change a lot in the last few months. That whole hospital/caring for/not-able-to-save-my-friend thing doubled my grey hair count. Seriously, I’m not joking. And so with my hair color so much whiter around my face, I needed a lighter colored pair of glasses. But most of the lighter glasses didn’t look right with my coloring. BUT THEN...I saw this pair of light blue and black glasses with zig-zags of blue color on the sides and...get this...a sprinkling of RHINESTONES where the sides wrapped around to the front! Nothing I’d ever try on or wear ever in my life! And yet I did. And they made me happy. Especially when I turned around and said to Don, “What about these?” and saw the shock and horror on his face! I could almost hear him praying, “Oh god, please no!” Which for some odd reason, made me feel even more daring and dangerous. “I like ‘em!” I said. He laughed nervously, not knowing if I was joking or not. And I was half joking. Nobody would EVER take me seriously wearing those glasses. Especially not AUTHOR seriously. Rhinestones and blue zig-zags? “Yes, well, you know, she was an actress. You know how tacky and flashy those types are.” But as loudly as I was hearing those disapproving voices, I was also hearing this defiant voice inside who said, “F__k it. Who cares what other people think. You are approaching fifty my dear. You have earned the right to wear anything you damned well please.” And I plopped these crazy blue glasses into the “consider” pile. The pile got smaller and smaller until there were just two pair left. A sensible pair...and the blue rhinestone extravaganza. Don was trying to be supportive, but I could tell he was well and truly confused as to who this new Meg was. And I knew I should get the sensible pair. The plain and boring, I-am-an-intellectual pair of glasses, but there was something about the other that sang it’s siren song to me, and it was impossible to put them aside. “I’ll get them both,” I heard my mouth saying. And I really intended to, until I heard how much it was going to cost! GADZOOKS! When did a pair of glasses get to be so much money? Just the idea of spending that much in one fell swoop made me feel sweaty all over. “Okay, I’ll only get one.” Guess which pair I bought? The pair that will not alienate half the world and will go with my entire wardrobe? Or the ones that go with nothing and make me feel like it’s going to be fun to roar into my fifties? Yup. You guessed it.
At least it’s not a mini-skirt, platform shoes and a red convertible. I’ll save that to surprise Don with next week!
Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, February 01, 2008 in Chewing the Fat |
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