Whose Mother?

I had an interesting experience in the grocery store today. The check-out clerk, a woman I had never seen before, called me mother - twice!

I'm not sure what to say beyond that. I wasn't really offended and I certainly didn't like it. To start with, of course, I am not her mother. I was so startled by it that I had no words in response. If a man had called me "honey" or "darling", I would have responded. I learned to deflect those titles a long time ago.

If she had called me "honey" or "darling", I might have known what to say or even how to look at her. But "mother"??? I was stunned and then when it happened a second time, I really wondered. I know I am old, grey hair, a bit of limp because the sciatica hasn't completely cleared yet, but there really are only two people (maybe 4 if you count their spouses) who can call me that legitimately. If children want to call me something other than Susan, I go with my grandmother name, Mama Susan. That is fine with me. But somehow this threw me. And with all the problems in the world, this is a silly little one that is just an irritation and obviously enough of one that I needed to write about it in order to clear my space. Thanks for listening.

Siberian Winter

When I was a little girl "Peter and the Wolf" was very popular both as a story and as music. My first appearance on stage was as Peter when I was 5. I was hooked. That however is a different story.

Today's story is about pictures that accompanied the record or book. 

The trees in our back yard look like the trees in those drawings, heavy snow hanging on pine branches, grey skies, and lots of Siberian snow for Peter to tramp through in search of the wolf. 

What makes this particular photo so impressive is that at 9 yesterday morning these trees were bare. By 4 yesterday afternoon the build up had begun and this morning they are loaded. I won't be too surprised to see a boy with bird making his way through the trees in search of his duck and the wolf. More likely it will be a cross-country skier or snowshoer enjoying the fresh powder. 

The Naked Archeologist

I'm recommending The Naked Archeologist on Amazon Prime. The show's premise is that Biblical archeology (defined I think as that done in and around Jerusalem and other sites in Israel) can confirm the truth of Biblical stories like the destruction of the Temple, the end to the siege of Jerusalem by the Assyrians, and other historical references. There is also much discussion of why professional archeologists discredit finds by amateurs. The Dead Sea Scrolls, for instance, found by a Bedouin shepherd following his goat, were disparaged for ten years as being fake.

I am finding this series fascinating. The science is discussed in a way that is understandable. The artifacts are amazing. Some of the finds are from two to three thousand years ago.

If you have Amazon Prime and are interested in ancient history, give this series a try.

More (and more) Snow

Just a few pictures to let you know what my morning has included.

One thing we didn't plan for when starting our AirBnB was who was 

going to shovel when it snowed and Dean was out of town!!! 

He has only been gone since Friday morning and will be home tonight

and I feel like it has been forever. I now have numbers of some folks who

might come in such a situation. This is a case of hind sight being 20/20.

Path from garage to parking lot. The last quarter was dug by a man

with a delightful English accent who was walking past with his shovel.

Thank you, David! I love you. 

Oso's path that I refused to clear this morning instead digging

him steps out the other door. These walls are now so tall that

they scare me and I don't want either one of us flattened.

Yep - taller than I am.

Icicles out the back window.

They are pretty. 

It Just Keeps Coming

Snow - and it keeps coming and getting deeper.

Although cold, I keep saying, "but not like Minnesota."

Oso is not sure what happened to his path. Yes, it is still there

but unshoveled, the snow reaches his tummy. 

"Do I really have to do this, mom?" 

Yes, honey, you do. And he did. Twice now he has run to the end of the path,

found a clear spot, done what had to be done and raced back inside. He

loves to play in the snow. Taking care of business is another matter, especially

when the wind is blowing. 

Update Agatha Christie?

I don't think so!

OK, I know that in lots of the movie or TV adaptations of Agatha Christie mysteries slight and subtle changes have been made to engage a modern audience a little more fully. I live with that.

But this? No. A three part series of The A B C Murders was on Amazon Prime last night.

It had a good cast: Rupert Grint who has matured into older roles since his Harry Potter days. John Malkovich as Poirot was the wrong casting of a good actor in a good role that was entirely wrong for him. He just wasn't Poirot.

They tried to make Poirot into someone he is not. Were they trying to add mystery to the mystery? I don't know. To give him a history beyond a Belgium detective who fled his country during WWI is just not Christie and gives the story a weird turn.

The basic plot line was the same but they tried to ~ what? ~ modernize it? to make it more interesting to today's audience? Throw in a touch of sadomasochism? OK. And it's just not Christie.

I guess I am spoiled. I have read the books over and over. I have the dvd's and watch over and over the David Suchet Poirots (and the Joan Hickson Miss Marples). I know these stories. I know these characters. I like them the way they are. Don't mess with the Queen of Crime Writers.

And for goodness sake, if you are going to mess with the story line, at least make it interesting and worth watching instead of dull and slow and boring. Sigh.

A Silent Time

Several of my FB friends have posted today about silence and that is exactly what we have had in our house today. In a split second we went from a house filled with squeals and laughter and loud voices to Silence. 

Now I have always appreciated silence and all it can mean and be whether while meditating or just being. I also love and appreciate my grandchildren. So today was a day of mixed blessings. 

I miss the little ones: the laughter, even the tears, the demands, the initiative and the pleasure in plans that still pop from Mama Susan’s head (thank goodness) spontaneously in response to a moment’s need. 

And ~ I am very grateful for the silence. Even the gentle drumming of the rain changed to snow which falls silently and no thought of the disturbance it might be creating later. 

In the silence I have read. I have written. I have played games. I have sat and watched the snow and the fire whose crackle was sometimes the only sound in the house. I have been still, hardly aware of my own heart beat as I have lived into the Silence. 

Blessings abound whether in sparkling noise or in blessed silence.