It has been a wonderfully busy weekend. Started with Friday evening going with my Wonderful Neighbor to a small town art walk. This was also at the same time as a near-by festival of caring for the earth and wearing a lot of tie-dye. I was hoping to be able to observe pretentious sub-urbanites mingling with the granola crowd. Unfortunately there were not many people out and about in the galleries, but in the plaza there was a local girl band playing doo-wap and Santana. They were truly fun, giving out glow in the dark toys to people with enough free spiritedness to get up and dance. Several of these prizes were probably taken by the musicians' grandkids. Yes, these people in the girl band were well into their time of enjoying life. And they dressed more like biker chicks than the suited up doo-wap groups they were covering. In the audience people, yuppies and granolas, enjoying themselves. What a great way to enjoy the evening.
Another thing this weekend was the finish of the Julie/Julia book. Now, did I read this book because I could relate to a woman stressed in her job and struggling to do something significant? No, well sort of, but primarily no. I want see what someone went through to get their blog made into an honest-to-god published book. Yes, I am a glutton for punishment of reading or watching movies about people who excel at something I want to do. Last year, as a new teacher in an at risk school, I had to let go of the idea that they are going to make a movie about me - how a lively young-ish teacher comes in and totally changes the lives of her students by inspiring them beyond their wildest dreams. Yes, Michelle Pfeiffer will never play me. Maybe I will become a world renowned writer, revered by millions, and maybe even a tincy bit worshiped by a small group of out of the box intellectuals. Maybe I will have Pfeiffer play me after all , or maybe Rosie O'Donnell, or even better Rosie Perez.
And of course Sunday was a day spent with My Dear Sweet Mother. My Sweet and I got a slow start - weariness is contagious. Fortunately my sister, who is now a mother of three wonderfully unique kids, was even later. True to my redneck home town fashion, we went to the buffet at the Indian casino. It was classic to see a bunch of grannies who were bussed in to celebrate the day by playing the slots. Couldn't tell if they were hunched over to protect their buckets of quarters, or osteoporosis. If only we could have come a few weeks later to see Cosby or Heart. (Yes Mom, I know when you read this that you are going to explain away all the reasons why we went there. They are very good reasons, and it was a great time. It was just funny to walk through the smoke filled room, past the 3 non-smoking slot machines and seeing all the old women there on mother's day.) It was a great day to visit the family.