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This morning, we woke to a dusting of snow, and snow still flying sideways, although it wasn't sticking by then. A day late, snow, you missed the white Christmas by a day! After a few hours it was pretty much gone from the streets, melting as the temperature climbed a few degrees above zero. Driving into town later, the fields so recently brown and bare, were candy-striped green and white with snow in the tractor tracks and in the furrows. A red-tailed hawk perched on a leftover pile of sugarbeets; apparently the highest spot around.

Proof That I'm Not the Perfect Parent You Think I Am: I taught my daughter to lie today. To be honest (since we're being honest, heh!) it's not the first time. It happened once before in line for a ride at Tivoli, where a sign said the age limit was 6 to ride. "How old are you, Karin?" we asked, prepping her for the moment the attendant would. "Six," stated our 5-year-old daughter with confidence. Today, she didn't actually have to lie, but we prepped her just the same, because after all...we couldn't take Martin to see Narnia and not her, now could we, despite the stated age limit of 7 on the site where we booked the tickets. "How old are you?" we asked her at intervals, unexpectedly. "Seven," she said, without blinking. "Really?" we feigned astonishment. "When were you born?" ...that took a moment of thought..."1998?" she guessed. After all that deceit-practice, no one even looked twice at our 6.5-year-old OR our 8-year-old for that matter, and the theater was FULL of families with children I'd swear were under 6.

Despite my initial fears that some of the scarier parts of the story would be too much for my kids, who have been a bit sensitive to scary scenes in the past, there was no problem, and they were totally enthralled, as was I even the 2nd time around. Every time a centaur was onscreen, Martin would tug my sleeve and whisper excitedly, "That's me!" (his astrological sign is Sagittarius) Upon our departure from the theater, and emergence back into real life, we had a stunned moment of awe: were we still in Narnia after all?? It had snowed the entire 2 hours we were in the theater, and the world was powder-puffed with 3 inches of the fluffy stuff. Great fat flakes swirled down and around us, shining diffuse coronas about each streetlight. The trees were all filled out again, white with black branches. Negatives of themselves, you almost think that you wouldn't even SEE the branches if it weren't for the snow outlining them. Whap! A snowball smacks me right in the butt. Martin races past, laughing, his arms out for balance. Karin shrieks and squeals as Anders grabs a handful from a nearby bench and aims at her. We snowball fight all the way down the path by the canal.

I'm finishing Under the Tuscan Sun, not really the ideal book to be reading during the Christmas holidays, although any other time I'm sure I would have found it irresistable. Its sensuous descriptions of Italian summers, herbs in pots, delicious and succulent recipes, make me both yearn for a southern European summer and disorient me simultaneously. I saw the movie when it came to Sweden a couple of years ago and to be honest, I can't understand where the 2 connect. The movie has nearly nothing to do with the book, and when I'm fresh off the amazing verisimilitude that infuses Narnia straight from the pages of the book I loved as a child, and still love as an adult, it's a bit bothersome. After these final few pages are finished, I think I shall dive wholeheartedly back into Narnia for the eleventy-hundredth time and lose myself in the remnants of Mr Lewis' magnificent imagination.

Swirly Snowy Wild and Wooly Birthday Wishes to scubatoe_eimi!
mood: tired
music: Single Gun Theory—From a Million Miles


I loved the Narnia movie, too, though I don't remember the book all that well. Natasha, on the other hand, was disappointed. It didn't ring her chimes. I think we all get a bit woozy with C.S. Lewis' apologia for Christianity. All that willing suffering. Ick.


Lizardmom and Seester here.....
Mom says she has 5 of the 10 Narnia Mcdonalds toys for your kids.
So they will be arriving someday! :) She has to get the lion still but has the kids and the white witch.
Sounds like Karin is taking after her MOTHER!You need to get the movie Polar Express,we watched it last night and it is good for believing.:)

Angie just told me it was good, too. I'll have to hunt it down. I haven't seen it anywhere here, although it was in the theaters for a short time last year. Cool about the Narnia toys!!

The Tuscan Sun film (as you've discovered) is very different from the book. I quite enjoyed her books, although I can understand why this might not be the best season for reading them. :)

i'm off to see narnia today. if i can get through ALL THIS SNOW and the buses are still running!


Hey! Those Narnia toys are cool! I had the Mr. Tumnus whistle for around two hours before my boss' kid fixated on it...

I'm so glad the kids loved the movie. And I am jealous of your magical snow - the snowy scenes in the movie were some of my favorite! Yes, yes, quick finish up your Italian book (it's a good one) and then swim deeply in Narnia folklore...

~samiam ;)


So Magical! Narnia and surprise snow! The book Under the Tuscan Sun and the movie arent the same? :( See I have to mostly rely on movies and audio books I am not a reader it takes me months to finish a book if I do then. So this joy of telling the difference of the secrets that lie in a page are often stolen from me...Instead I rely on avid readers like your self to inform me :)

They're absolutely NOTHING alike...there's a house in Tuscany and the author was once divorced, that's it. The book is EXCELLENT, though, despite that.


hey thats was me Alex above :)

I'm dying to see the Narnia movie - it depends on whether we can get a dog sitter if we can venture out and see it. But I'll try and beg for my birthday :)

I'm interested in hearing your views on the book "Under the Tuscan Sun." I saw the movie and loathed it. It was very pretty, but I felt horribly cheated by the whole thing.

I mean, I liked the overall message of "Even if you don't get exactly what you wish for, you probably still get basically what you want, if you'd just suck it up and look around for one damn minute!" But I've seen it done much better many times before.

It was, plain and simple, leisure porn. Oooh, let's all wistfully marvel at the kind of lifestyle NO ONE leads, let alone some freakin' mediocre writer who hasn't put out a book in years! How much did she make off one-half of the sale of her old house, anyway?! ON WHAT PLANE OF EXISTENCE DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

"Oh, poor me, my husband is a knob, so I simply can't bring myself to do anything but wander around and have chance encounters with utterly fascinating people while exotic men are taking care of every aspect of my new house!"

Leisure porn. So utterly unbelievable that any "message" of "character development" (and yes, I'm totally making little quote signs in the air while I say those words) is lost in the din of me screaming, "You ungrateful, retarded bitch! How am I possibly supposed to empathise with your plight?! WHERE'S THE PLIGHT?!"

I was so irritated. What a waste of time.

And I know what you're thinking. That I'm jealous of her. And of COURSE I'm jealous of her. But that's not why I hated the movie. It was, I think, trying to lead me along her path of healing and whatever, but it was so hard to watch, what with me having to roll my eyes every two minutes.

I vowed never to read the book, but now I may reconsider. And if it is as bad as the movie, I'll have to come visit you (with a cleaver) :)

I wasn't terribly thrilled by the movie either, although I didn't think it was nearly as bad as you did. It was eye candy for me, mostly.

The book, however, couldn't be more different. They don't even exist on the same plane. I swear to you. It's more like A Year in Provence or Fifty Acres and a Poodle: a simple, delightful meanderng tale of her restoration (with her current husband or boyfriend or whatever he is) of a house in Tuscany. There's no plot whatsoever, just beautiful descriptions of the countryside, the people, her garden and the food, and a TON of awesome, drool-worthy recipes. Trust me.

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I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Abraham Lincoln

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