There is a basic tenet in Buddhism that the only reality is what is happening now. The past exists only in our heads, muddled by our own unavoidable perspectives and biases, and the future may or may not come to pass. If a piano falls on you in three seconds, it’s best not to have spent that time separated from the sights, sounds and emotions of the moment.
I find this a helpful construct for many reasons; I tend to be a ruminator and a worrier, frequently leaving the moist, fragrant air of a summer second to regret the actions of a remote January morning, or to fret over what might happen as the air grows crisp and the leaves turn from green to red. I wonder, though, if it is wrong to remember places I loved, that are forever lost to me, and that live on only in my memory and the collective memories of those who actually experienced them. It’s a moot point, really, because I can’t seem to stop myself, and it doesn’t seem to do me any significant harm to remember. This happens, particularly, when I think about my grandmothers’ houses, places that still exist, but which are empty of the people, the atmosphere and any other context that gave them meaning for me.
There were no more than 300 students in grades 1-12 at Baker Academy and I graduated with pretty much the same 17 people I started 1st grade with. Needless to say, I knew these people quite well and knew exactly
what I wanted their mother's to make when I came to visit. Lisa's
mother, Ms. Martha made an 'apricot nectar cake', Susan's mom "Ms.
Betty" made a 'peach pie' and the list goes on. My mother has many of
these recipes saved in a nice little recipe box after her Baker
Academy cookbook was reduced to shreds.
If you want to entertain high on the hog and go hog wild then – in fact – why not go hog wild and pig out high on the hog!
ANJELICA HUSTON
', the scene where Joyce Redman and Albert Finney eat Lobster....
' where Daryl Hannah attacks the shellfish in the fancy restaurant mermaid-style and the scene in '
' where Tom Hanks razor nibbles the baby ears of corn the way a kid would. In character, ingenious, and hilarious in both instances.
LYNDA RESNICK
' when Jane serves her sister's lunch under a silver salver that once open, reveals a rat, it is kind of heart stopping. To this day when I see dinner being served under those shiny domes I hold my breath until the contents underneath are revealed by the liveried footman. Not an everyday occurrence for sure unless you are as devoted as I am to Downton Abbey.
'.
I’ve just bought a coffee, and now, seated at my table for one, I am pulling my book from my bag, when I notice that the woman at the next table — also alone—is shyly watching me from behind the covers of her open book. We smile and exchange tentative comments about our reading selections.