WAHOOOO!

Way to go, Will!  xoxoxo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, April 10, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

At least I wasn’t naked…

Had a dream last night.  It was opening night and I was panicking.  “Wait a minute,“ I was saying.  “I thought we had three weeks!“ 

But we don’t and it’s opening night and we haven’t even run through the play.  I’ve got my script.  I’m staring at the highlighted lines and I’m remembering Rog and Jim.  We had dinner last Friday and they were telling us about a play they went to in Toronto which was so bad that one of the actors was still on book.  He was walking around reading his lines out of the script.  They were laughing.  I was too, but I got a flash of fear as well. 

“That’s not going to be me,“ I say, in my dream.  I’m pretty fierce about it, but still, even as I say it, I know I’m screwed.  I’ve been working on the lines, but that isn’t enough.  We haven’t done any blocking.  We haven’t even gotten together and read through the play yet.  How can it be opening night? 

Then, I’m backstage.  We’ve stumbled through some of it, and I’m trying to find Cat, who is in charge of wardrobe.  I’m wearing Martha’s first outfit, but there is supposed to be a costume change and I don’t know if they have one.  The wardrobe change is necessary.  It’s referenced in the lines, it’s a plot point, another step on the ladder of events.

And that’s when it hits me, I’ve only gotten three-fifth of the way through memorizing the play.  And even that isn’t letter perfect yet, needs reminders.  What am I going to do for the last part of the play?  I know what happens, but I don’t know what she, or anyone else actually says!

It’s the end of the first act.  The applause is lackluster, disappointed.  I feel bad, embarrassed, like it wasn’t fair to all the people who shelled out their hard earned money to attend.  Gave up an evening, had expectations.

It’s intermission.  I’m outside the theatre, there are people gathered in front of the doors, smoking, talking.  I am standing by the stage door at a bit of a distance so they don’t see me.  I see Roger and Jim.  I feel so bad.  It’s going to be so embarrassing going to their party, for them, for me, for the guests they invited.  What could people say?  Yeah, that was horrible, worst night at the theatre ever, you sucked.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, April 07, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Me and my sisters

Good morning everybody!

Don and I are on the ferry.  We are going into Vancouver to have brunch at the Pan Pacific with his literary agent.  We are sitting at the little desks where they have wi-fi.  I like traveling on the ferry.  The rumble of the engines underneath us, the slight rocking movement, it’s like being in the belly of a cat.

When I booted up my computer and checked my emails, I found these photos attached to an email from my sister, Jennifer.  They were taken by Phil this November when we went to her house for the U.S. Thanksgiving Day feast. 

Before you scroll right through them, I think an explanation is in order…

The first one is perfectly normal.  Like the majority of photos I have of the three of us. 

The next one, someone shouted out, “Be silly!“  I am nothing if not obliging.

“Okay, now be super goofy!“  I think it was Phil that called this instruction out, I don’t remember, everyone was making a lot of noise. 

Goofy?  I thought.  That’s new.  We never used to do that.  Must be something new Becky and Jenny have come up with.  Well, if they want goofy, all right then…

Flash goes the camera. 

I glance over at my sisters to see what goofy things they came up with.  Um…Okay… I think maybe a little clarifying is in order.  I don’t really think looking like cute little cheerleaders celebrating a touchdown qualifies as goofy. 

“Wait a minute,“ I bellow. “You were supposed to look goofy!“

“Wha…?“  Becky says, looking confused, and Jenny’s laughing, making jokes, and I’m laughing too. 

Flash goes the camera.

And all the guys, Phil and Todd and Don are laughing and Becky starts laughing too.  And we laugh so hard the kitchen gets all full up with our laughter, every nook and cranny full, until finally, we have to stop because our cheeks are sore and our bellies hurt.

Don says my idea of goofy is probably a little more extreme on account of having kids.  I think Don is just making excuses for me.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, March 27, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Happy news!

Everybody here is jumping up and down.  I just got off the phone with my boy Will and he has been offered a spot in a great 3 year acting program in England.  Hats off to you, honey!  We are SO proud! 

Of course that means he’ll be living in London for a least another three years and it’s a long way away, but thank heavens it is all working out and he has the opportunity to follow his dreams.  Couldn’t be happier.

Another happiness is, I found out this morning that the playwright has given his permission for us to do his play, which is a huge relief.

It’s one of those lulls in life, when things seem to fall into place, like finding the missing piece of the almost completed puzzle under the sofa.  And it’s a weird juxtaposition, because on the other side of the ocean from us, such sorrows and tragedies are continuing to unfold, and my heart hurts for all the families and homes that have been/are being under siege.  And I wonder how it is, that here, at the exact same time, our family has been blessed with such happiness.  And I don’t understand how the world/the fates/God works.  So much challenging times going on around the globe.  Feel so helpless. 

And at the same time, feel almost overwhelmed with gratitude.  Am grateful for this patch of sunshine, this dollop of happiness that Will’s good news brings my family.  Am grateful for the cherry blossoms that are blooming outside my bedroom window.  Grateful that the clouds took a break from raining and opened up to shower our budding gardens with warm, brilliant sunshine.  I hold this moment close to my heart, try to absorb it down deep into my pores, so when the challenging times, that are always lurking just around the corner, decide to stop lurking and pounce on my head, I will have this moment, this day to draw from.  And I will try to remember to remind myself that hard times and good times, change with the wind.  Remind myself to breathe and to try and find the hidden blessings that are always present no matter how difficult the circumstances. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, March 16, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

a morning meander

Hello,

It’s been awhile. 

I woke up early.  Still dark outside.  Rain pattering on the window.  A car just went past, headlights on. 

That’s unusual.  Our street is very quiet.  Especially at this time of day.  I wonder where they are going? 

Maybe they have an early flight?  Hawaii?  A business trip?

The wind picked up for a second, causing the rain to splatter, rat-ta-tat-tat, harder on the window.  A spurt of passion that has now, once again died down.  Just peaceful rain, puttering along.

Sort of like me, I guess.

HA!  As I wrote that, it’s like the weather was reading over my shoulder, because, seriously, there was a huge gust, an exuberant surge of wind, so strong that I could hear the branches of the garry oak outside rattle and shake like maracas.  It was like the wind was answering me, saying, not on your life sweetie, we are just giving you a lull, a brief respite, an early morning amble.  There is a lot of excitement in store for you.

Made me smile. 

I’m still smiling.

David and Amy are away on a stay-cation.  I hope it isn’t raining where they are.  Rain is nice, but when one is on vacation, it’s nice to be able to bumble around without having to huddle under an umbrella.  Actually, I don’t know if David and Amy own an umbrella.  I’ve never seen them carrying one, and it rains here a lot.

I generally don’t carry one either.  The only time I do, is when I am out with Don, because he’s always got one or two in his car.  And he has this idea that when I’m with him, it’s his manly duty to keep me dry.  It’s quite sweet, really. 

Funny too, because I get this imp in me sometimes and when he stops his car, he’ll say something like, “You stay there, nice and dry.  I’ll go get the umbrella out of the back and come around for you.“

“Okay,“ I say.  “Thanks, honey.“ My head tucked down so he can’t see the grin that is starting to form.  He smiles, trustingly, happily, because he’s the big man, taking care of his woman.  Then, he’ll tuck his head down like a turtle, disappearing his neck entirely, into the collar of his jacket and hop out of the car to get that umbrella. 

The minute his door shuts, mine flies open and I hop out and head jauntily down the sidewalk, letting the rain fall where it may. 

I hear his panicked squawk.  I don’t look behind me.  I don’t have to.  I can feel his agitated, worried fumbling, as he tries to disengage the umbrella from all the junk back there.  “Meg!“ he’ll yelp.  “Wait!  You’ll get wet!“ 

But I keep walking, long legged strides. 

I hear him run to catch up to me.  Having to hold the umbrella in front of him like a shield so the wind won’t turn it inside out. “Meg!“

And then he’s there beside me.  Wielding that large black umbrella with it smooth curving wood handle.  There he is tucking in close, wrapping his arm around me, holding the umbrella slightly lopsided so I get most of the cover, even though I don’t care if I get wet. 

There he is, not even grouchy that I foiled his plan to keep me safe and saran wrapped and out of the elements.  He’s just slightly confused, perturbed, that things didn’t go according to his plan.  That despite all his valiant efforts I still got a little wet.  “Why didn’t you wait?“ he’ll say, and I’ll look at his sweet familiar face and laugh, because he’s so fun to tease and makes me feel so loved.

I just looked up.  It’s lighter now.  The night darkness, gone.  Not quite full fledged daylight, but getting there.  A raven squawked.  The rain isn’t splattering any more, but I can still hear the run off in the drain that comes down from the roof and along the outside wall of my writing room. 

I think I’ll go back upstairs now, and tuck back into bed, pull the covers up around my neck and maybe drift back to sleep for another half hour or so.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, March 08, 2011 in

Bravo!

Happy, doesn’t even begin to describe it.  There are those times in life when mere words just aren’t sufficient.  This is one of those times.  xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, February 28, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Emily and other things too

So much is happening.  It’s like one of those times in life where a million things hit the fan…

Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly an accurate statement.  More honest would be, “It’s like one of those times when you fling everything at the fan.“  And I don’t know about you, but the image that sprung to my mind was ice cream.  All different flavors, some dripping with sauces, hot fudge, caramel and such, and me enthusiastically flinging them at a big industrial strength fan, causing a glorious, huge, impractical mess.  One of the ice cream cones in my imagination had a cherry on top.  Which totally doesn’t make sense, since I stopped eating maraschino cherries years ago when I found out one of the ingredients used was formaldehyde.

Hmmm… I wonder if that’s true, or if it was just an urban myth that I totally bought into? 

I’m going to check.  Be right back.

    * * *

This is what I found on a History of the Marichino Cherry website. (I found other things too, but am only cutting and pasting the two myth/fact things that were of interest to me.)

MYTH: Maraschino cherries are preserved with formaldehyde.

FACT: Maraschino manufacturers use FD&C Red Dye #40, the same dye used in Doritos, chewing gum, food coloring, and egg dye, say Payne. NOTE: He keeps a stack of examples in his office so you can read the labels for yourself. Red Dye #3 is the dye that caused concerns about cancer.

Anyway, back to the more important…okay, that sentence just made me pause.  Um… excuse me, Meg…more important?  Ahem…Like your ramblings about cherries were important at all?

Be that as it may.  What I’m trying to say is a LOT has been happening here!

First things first.  All of my long-time loyal blogger followers, remember my daughter, Emily.  Some of you followed her art as life project last year.  This year she is working with a rather unique and unconventional man who happens to be a director of commercials, music stuff and other things.  (Emily told me all about it, but you know how it is with us gray-haired, stout, jolly matrons, we get to a certain phase of life and can’t remember a gal-darn thing…)  She’s working on a website etc for him, and she is writing the stories about him, his life.  I knew that some of you would be curious, so here is a link. 

When you get to the page, you’ll see that the by-line is ez.  That’s my daughter!  She’s started, so you’ll be able to see it from the very beginning, help decide what bits about her boss you want her to explore and so on. 

Also, in her spare time, she is doing another website, http://wecantbefriends.wordpress.com/ with a woman who was in her graduate program.  They aren’t friends.  And the website is a series of letters that they write to each other exploring/explaining to each other, why. 

Check them out.  You will get a taste of the world through my talented daughter’s eyes.

  * * *

Now, back to my exuberant sundae flinging.

Several things happened over the Christmas Holidays.  There was the Christmas present I found under the Christmas tree, that was a bracelet from my sister, Jennifer.  Carved on it were the words, “It is never too late to be what you might have been,“ a George Eliot quote. 

“Oh pooh,“ I thought, sitting in front of my writing desk with the little unwrapped parcel in my hands.  “I am extremely happy with my life.“  And just as that thought meandered through my brain, there was another, more insistent voice that said, “You always wanted to do theatre.“ 

I tried to push the faintly wistful, ghostly longing aside, but there it was, now fully formed, dancing in the air around me.

The next night, we were eating at a delicious Chinese restaurant and my daughter, Emily said, “Mom, I think you should think about doing some theatre.“  Just like that.  Totally unprovoked.  One minutes she is prying tasty crab morsels from a crab leg coated in a tasty, very goopy ginger and green onion sauce and then she drops this on my head. 

“Yeah,“ my boy Will says.  “You should, Mom.“

“Hmmm…“ I replied, pretending to be busy spooning some fried rice on my plate, but I could feel my face flush. 

Then, a few weeks later, my sister, Jennifer, takes me to a spa for a week to celebrate my 50th birthday.  And there is something about dragging one’s sorry ass out of bed at 5:40 am, to go on a six mile hike up a mountain, in the dark, that causes all kinds of things to spill out of one’s mouth.  “I want to do theatre,“ I say, feeling sort of shy and embarrassed and hopeful all at once. “I flew to Toronto and bought a little condo, two days ago.  I don’t know what got into me, I have always wanted to and then I got your bracelet, two days later the kids were saying the same thing, and I thought, what the hell?  It almost doesn’t matter if I get in a play or not.  What matters is that I’m trying.“

Next thing you know, my sister has zoomed into overdrive.  She has sent out an email to undisclosed recipients, she is putting out feelers, she sets me up with Rich Caplan, an agent in Toronto, who also happens to be a ridiculously talented writer.  I’m supposed to call him.  I’m scared.  I put on the good-luck necklace she gave me, for my 51st birthday that will be in a week, and I call him.  He is super nice.  He says he’ll take me on.  The next day, he’s set up a meeting with Brian Richmond for Monday.

Once, Trina Allen, my Canadian West Coast agent, realized that I was open to doing things, she started sending me stuff and set up a meeting with Matthew Jocelyn (who was very nice) on Friday in Vancouver.  So, it’s been busy. 

Well, today is Monday.  I met with Brian Richmond and… it looks like I’m going to be doing a play with Blue Bridge Theatre in Victoria!

Hey, I guess I didn’t even need a little condo in Toronto!

Crazy, huh?  How fast life changes.  During the week at the spa, my sister kept saying, “You build it and they will come.“  And I was scared, but I held onto her words, and now here it is, one week later, and I’ve just committed to fulfilling a lifelong dream.  Not only that… but the part I am going to be playing is really wonderful!

Of course, I’m going to have to figure out what to do about the apartments we rented to spend June and part of July in London and France.  But really, I didn’t even have to think about it for a second.  It was a no-brainer.

Another thing busy time-gobbler I’m juggling, is that my literary agent, Laura, really liked the middle grade manuscript I sent her.  She mailed it back last week with all her comments and notes and a request for me to lengthen it by another 40 pages, which I replied airily, “Sure, no problem.  I should be able to get these changes done by the end of Feburary.“  Gulp… And I have been writing, but with all this other excitement, it seems to take my mind twice as long to settle down to the task at hand.

Speaking of which, I’d better get working on that manuscript.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, February 07, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

I guess it all depends on who you speak to…

I’ve received a couple of emails that lifted my spirits immeasurably.  And I figured, why keep all this happiness to myself?  So, here you are, fresh off the press!

“Ha…wee bit of grey…not stout…pretty jolly…a matron (sure, but it’s not a bad thing.)“

These words of wisdom from D____.

    * * *

And this avenging email came with the subject line:

“PAH! I say”  Which had me smiling before I even opened it.  The rest of the email was equally satisfying.

“My Dearest Meg,

Didn’t want to draw your attention to it as clearly they know nothing about the wonderfulness that is my dear funny, articulate, talented, beautiful lumberjack tracker but as you blogged about it just wanted to say that PAH! Is what I say to the press.“

The rest of the email was personal, so I shan’t post it, but that little loyal masterpiece (a masterpiece because it was all nice things about me) was from L____.

Ah… It’s nice to have friends. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, January 26, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Hello again

For anybody who is interested. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, January 26, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Ahem…

I have been informed that there are all kinds of weird things being written about me in the English newspapers.  Apparently, I am a rather stout grey-haired jolly matron. 

Sheesh…

Now, maybe I am a few of those things, but really, couldn’t they just pretend?

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 25, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Congratulations!

Our happy hats off to a member of the family.  We are so pleased for you!  Hearty jigs are being danced.  Tonight, dinner with Dave and Amy and we shall all lift a glass of wine to toast your continued success! Jubilant hugs and kisses from all of us.  Onward and upward!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, January 17, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Hang on to your hats!

Yesterday at it’s high gold was trading at $1393 per ounce.  Right now it is trading at $1357.50.  It has dropped below an important support level.  Where it will close is anyone’s guess.  See what I mean about volatile?  It does this kind of thing all the time.  Wild swings up, dramatic plunges down.  One has to have a strong stomach to participate in this type of market.  Some investors will be saying, “See, the end of the gold bull.  I told you it was over valued!“  And others will be watching the drop and will be certain that it is just gold consolidating and will have a price point in their heads and they will use the drop to add more to their position. 

What is going to happen next?  It’s anyone’s guess. 

Me?  I’m off to exercise.  My sister and I are on a mission to drop a few of those Christmas pounds.  She’s having more success than me and has dropped FIVE POUNDS ALREADY!  Whooohooo!  Yay Jenny!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, January 14, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Deflation in the cards?

And now… to counter balance the inflation scenario argument, I’ve included a link to some pretty powerful and persuasive charts by the brilliant David Rosenberg.

Ha!  I bet you will all be happy when I get my manuscript back from Laura next week.  That way I’ll be forced to lay off my financial markets obsession and knuckle down to some editing.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 13, 2011 in

The gold debate

Hi Everyone,

I just saw this video on one of the investment sites I read and thought you might enjoy it. 

Whether or not gold is for you, whether or not you think it is over-valued now (seeing as how an ounce of gold was selling for $252 dollars around 10 years ago and is now MUCH higher) I thought you might find this video interesting.  It’s not too long and I figure, the people who have asked for my advice with regards to investing over the years have recently been wanting to know about gold, so perhaps some of you do as well. 

For those of you that are interested, have been hearing a lot of gold talk on TV and whatnot, but don’t know what all the fuss is about, here is a pretty informative video that will bring you up to date with the gold picture now. 

Whether you decide you want to own a few of those gleaming gold coins is a personal choice.  It is a very volatile market and can drop a heart-stopping amount for no apparent reason.  It earns no interest, pays no dividend, however many people are buying it as a safeguard against the looming threat of inflation.  Whether we are going into a period of massive inflation is anyone’s guess.  As with all investments, learn as much as you can about it and then only do what makes sense to you and doesn’t cause you to lose sleep. 

There are some investors that believe gold can rise to the $5-6,000 range.  There are other investors that believe gold is peaking and is a bubble about to burst. 

Another word to the wise, if you do decide to buy a little gold, it is probably better to purchase the coins as opposed to the bars as some very good counterfeit gold bars have started appearing on the market.

Happy viewing!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 13, 2011 in Chewing the Fat

Happy days

Hello!

I’ve been cooking up a storm.  Doing the Christmas feast prep, but once on a cooking jag, it’s sort of like a run-away train. 

All my kids are home and so, on the counter is half a dark chocolate cake with a broiled pecan topping and melted chocolate drizzled on the top and slathered on the sides.  There is part of a sponge cake that I made today.  And yes, I know there is already the rest of yesterday’s chocolate cake to be consumed, but I have a good excuse.

See… I decided not to make the usual three pies (pecan, apple and pumpkin) for Christmas day dessert.  I figured that after all the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet yam rum-cinnamon mash, the various vegetables, gravy and so forth, that by the time pie rolls around, it’s more of a duty than a pleasure. 

So, this year I’m making a delicious trifle, using a bunch of the berries I froze from the farms this summer for a compote with a little sugar, half a squeezed lemon, and a few good glugs of vodka.  I prefer to use homemade sponge cake rather than store bought lady fingers or cake, so I made a cake.  Well, actually I made two, because we picked up our turkey at the butchers today and I had too much stuff in the fridge, so really, I made an extra sponge cake because I was being helpful.  Not because I felt like eating it!  Ahem…

Then there was the custard to make for the trifle.  Well… it took 10 egg yolks!  And I didn’t want to throw out perfectly good egg whites, so I used them to make a slew of meringues.  And yes, along with a goodly portion of the sponge cake, I have had a meringue as well. 

I won’t even mention the Purdy chocolate liquor balls that I bought… and re-bought… and re-bought again, because I kept eating them. 

I’ll be glad/sad when the holiday season is over and I can get back on the going-to-the-gym wagon. 

And, yes, I can hear some of you saying, “what’s wrong with getting on the wagon now, Meg?“  But I’m pretending I can’t hear you. 

All my kids home for Christmas!  And so, I think what it is, is I’m trying to make up for them all living away from home by cooking overtime.  Making every cozy food I can think of, even though they are grown and raw oysters and champagne, brie cheese and a pint are probably more in line with who they are, have become.  I love having them home.  Emily walking circles in the kitchen talking to a friend on the phone.  Will downstairs.  Dave working his butt off, but even David gets Christmas Day off and he and Amy will be staying over as well.  A full house.  So happy.

And then in January, the day Will goes back to London, and one day after Emily returns to New York, our friends Ken and James are coming for a visit and we will write and cook and eat and talk and it’s really good timing, because even though I’ll be missing my kids, the house won’t be quite as empty and hollow feeling as it otherwise might have been.

Wishing all of you a wonderful Holiday season! 

Much love, Meg xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, December 23, 2010 in Chewing the Fat

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