When in doubt as to what I do of a Sunday night, do inquire here. The new BBC adaptation of Emma is everything that one could want from our favorite production company. Granted, there are moments when one wonders if the dialogue is being intentionally drawn out to make the story last for six hours, or however long this thing turns out to be. It's a bit amusing to me that there's a fanbase in the world that would be disappointed if their films were any shorter.
Dear Nathaniel, I am microwaving pie that Mom bought up in Oak Glen this week on her way home from the orthodontist. As I put it in the microwave, I was full of sadness that I was not in Oak Glen with her. Why did I not go? I was working. I want to see the trees turn. I want to wander slowly through autumnal gift shops. Under the water, you cannot sense the approach of the seasons. Even here it is difficult because, after all, it's California. But I can still sense it. After three seasons in Illinois and one in Scotland, it must be with me for good. Or at least for a while. Because I am all abuzz with eagerness for fall and winter, for turkeys and dried leaves and Santa. I should start cooking again this fall. Fall foods are my favorite. Baked squash dripping with melted butter and brown sugar, pumpkin soup... this year, if I have enough money, I will put together a holiday dinner for my friends. And we will drink Scandinavian mulled wine, which is the most wonderful thing I have e
Comments
Post a Comment