Pictures

Reworked plot

A painter gets caught in a mob war and he must choose between an old friend and his masterpiece.

Want more detail? Read on...

It's Belle Epoque Paris and two criminal families are feuding. Sargent intends to paint a portrait of the arrogant Madame Gautreau, but he doesn't know her family is the Parisian mafia (hahahaha French mafia hahahaha!). At a dinner party, Sargent saves them from a bomb he soon discovers was thrown by a childhood Venetian friend. The friend and Sargent plot to ruin the Gautreau family but Sargent falls in love with Amelie while painting the portrait at her country house near the sea. He has to paint it in time to win the next Salon, and he has to save Amelie before his friend suspects him of the double-cross, and at the final climax he has to make the final self-sacrificing move before the tide comes in.

My sleeper cell neighbors

Be prepared to be either really offended, amused, or scared by what I'm about to reveal. We have this house next to ours that is usually empty. There has never been a For Rent sign, never been a moving van in the 18 months we've been here. And yet there have been many different people staying there. Sterling thinks they are Hispanic, I think they look Persian. Every one is in the top 30% of humanity as far as good looks go. Fit, good teeth, well-groomed. We got a piece of mail from some Aviator association addressed to Ishmael Shaarif. A character in my book would have knocked on their door and asked if it was theirs, but I just gave it back to our mail carrier. (chicken)

We can't tell who owns the house. The garage is always spotless except for a bicycle or two. Sometimes there are women and children, usually just a couple of men coming in and out. From time to time a handsome 30-something man parks in their driveway (in a super sporty Audi) and someone from the house comes out and sits in the car, and they talk. Other times I've seen other people meticulously cleaning their cars or unloading things from their trunk wrapped in black garbage bags.

Is it drugs? Terrorism? Saudi royalty? Ross Perot's security team?

Goals

Ever since someone first asked me in that multi-layered tone meant to convey interest and mask competitivenes: "so, Eleanor's 10 months and not walking yet?" I stifled that "my kids must be the best and the smartest or it means I'm a failure" feeling and tried out the new motto "By the time she's 21, I'm sure she'll know how to walk. And your kid will too." And that's all it means. It's not about me.

Okay so I have my own personal list of goals on my fridge but recently as a mom I've been more aware of conflicting goals in situations with my children. What is more important? Their agency (i.e. pursuit of happiness) or my goal at the time (clean table, low energy bills, my nap, my pride).

For instance, I have a goal for my children to love reading. I model good reading habits, I read out loud to them, I have worked alongside Eleanor to learn the basic phonetic rules of English. Now, I know Eleanor (5) can sound out words, quite complicated words sometimes (shotgun, pioneer, buccaneer). However, she absolutely refuses to read on command. Or to herself.

I've been wrestling with what to do and my mom asked a good question. "What does it MEAN if Eleanor doesn't read?" I was about to splutter "It means I'm not a good homeschooler, I'm not a good mom, she'll Fall Behind, she's dumb....but wait, I know she's not. And darnit, I know I'm not any of those things. Those are all my insecurities talking. So I took a deep breath, and said "It means, uh, it means she just isn't reading right now." So for now, we're just reading lots of good books and cutting back on the TV. Other good ideas from my husband and mom were: She acts out stories as I read them (this worked well with Thumbelina), we do a reader's theater, comic books, let her draw while I read, and read in different places (like a tent or under the bunkbed with a lamp), and write her simple love notes that she can decipher.

Twelfth Night

Our family has been doing a Shakespeare Around the Year project. We celebrated St. Crispin's day (October 25) by watching the best parts of Kenneth Branagh's film Henry V. And we tried to recite part of the speech. And we had mock sword fights. Pretty basic.

Today (or yesterday, depending on what calendar you use) is Twelfth Night. In Tudor England this day was an upside down opposite day. Our kids have loved it so far. We have dressed up in Halloween costumes (transvestite stuff just to honor the play, then spider man and princess stuff as normal) We are going to watch the BBC animated version of Twelfth Night and I'll read some of the play to myself and share any good parts with them.

Tonight, we will be having breakfast for dinner (fried scones, eggs, bacon, and orange juice). We won't be getting drunk, but may have some hot chocolate. And of course, we'll have King Cake complete with beans to designate the king and queen for the evening. They get to dictate what movie to watch, how late to stay up, etc. I'll post pictures later this week

Melissa

My cousin Melissa is something like five years older than me. I'm really not sure. I was born in 1982, I have no idea when she was born. Anyway, she was always the older prettier smarter cousin at those Landes reunions. I was the snotty little cousin who liked to play ponies, or maybe play in the orchard behind their house. I remember playing piano for her wedding, and I felt honored by the request. It was a lovely wedding. And that was the last I saw of her for about 8 years. Then out of nowhere she flew into Houston for a scrapbooking conference. (She's a genius crafter) I was a little nervous seeing her after all these years of no contact, but we had such a wonderful time talking over McDonald's burgers in downtown. Then we started hanging out at each others blogs. Then they moved across the country and they stopped at our house for a few hours. We loved hanging out and were touched that they would take the time to do that. I am in awe of her husband's service and her strength as a wife and mother. Someday I hope to have some kind of joint Disneyworld experience with them. Until then, Melissa, you are awesome and I hope you know that.

Also, I can't access your blog anymore with my google sign in. So uh, I guess change that email you have for me to: adriennemann@gmail dot com. I know you're busy, and I know you asked me a long time ago for my email for this exact reason, and I totally muffed it.