She was 45. And a real fighter!
I mailed two copies of ICING to the funeral home to give to her family.
Was the cancer growing inside her when we published ICING?
***
My therapist friend Judy D, who moved to Colorado to be with her son and his wife, is friends with MariePat.
Marie and I met for the first time last Thursday. I arrived at the Ambler Theater early
since I wasn't sure how to get there.
I said to the guy inside who took the tickets, I'm waiting for a woman with white hair.
That would describe everyone who comes here, he said.
We watched the film INDIGNATION, based on a novel by Philip Roth. I'd never heard of it. The film was gorgeously filmed and filled with anecdotes with no coherent theme.
Marie is a stunning woman. She uses a contraption to help her hear the film. It fits into the cup holder.
In my cupholder I fit...
this delicious Chocolate Butter Biscuit. I just finished it two minutes ago. Read about the company here. Very clever slogans.
Take a look at the family who owns Ritter. They look like they're starring in a new Netflix film. Scroll down.
The theater was built in 1928. In one of its many incarnations, iIt used to be a Christian cinema. If I'm not mistaken Harry Bristow owned it. Read history here.
Many folks in Ambler once worked in asbestos mines.
"Asbestos is a naturally occurring mineral that once was lauded for its versatility, recognized for its heat resistance, tensile strength and insulating properties, and used for everything from fire-proof vests to home and commercial construction. It was woven into fabric, and mixed with cement.
Its properties were so desired that the United States military mandated its use in every branch of service. Asbestos was a perfect blend to make things better – except it was highly toxic, too. Today asbestos is a known cause of mesothelioma cancer, is banned in more than 50 countries (not the U.S.), and its use has been dramatically restricted in others."
Here's a post I wrote about Ambler... you've gotta scroll way down for the pix.
***
Thursday night I went to a new Writers' Group. It was just around the corner on XX Avenue. I'd looked at a house on the same street but didn't buy it, since it felt as if I were squooshed between houses. Much more room here on Cowbell.
One woman didn't like her photo taken so in deference to all of them, I won't publish the picture. She said she goggled her name once and found a picture of her drinking wine! Quelle horreur!
ACCEPTANCE
These were sophisticated women
who reached across the table
to shake my hand, Lori as in
Lori Nelson, still sasssy
at 83, and Marlene, who
passed me the crackers and
cheese and told me the
chocolate chip cookies
were divine.
Oh, said I, not for me, my
resistance steadily lowering as in the
famous toddler study at Stanford that
showed "self-control" was paramount
for later success.
This was their Thursday night
writing group, hosted by Linda,
who spread the table with a
glorious feast. In deference
to the hostess I ate one of every
morsel except the coconut which
got bad reviews. Plus I left my
Dental Floss at home.
They liked my short stories -
The Red Door and The Missing Girl -
and marked up my copies with red
and purple ink.
Not bad, I thought, as I stepped outside into
the hot autumn night, thanking the stars, and the
golden leaves as I walked quickly to my car
studded with the the gifts of autumn.
These women were fussy. Grammarians, correct
spellers, fact-checkers. And they want
me back!
resistance steadily lowering as in the
famous toddler study at Stanford that
showed "self-control" was paramount
for later success.
This was their Thursday night
writing group, hosted by Linda,
who spread the table with a
glorious feast. In deference
to the hostess I ate one of every
morsel except the coconut which
got bad reviews. Plus I left my
Dental Floss at home.
They liked my short stories -
The Red Door and The Missing Girl -
and marked up my copies with red
and purple ink.
Not bad, I thought, as I stepped outside into
the hot autumn night, thanking the stars, and the
golden leaves as I walked quickly to my car
studded with the the gifts of autumn.
These women were fussy. Grammarians, correct
spellers, fact-checkers. And they want
me back!
***
Okay, what day is it? Ah, Friday night. Went to the kids' house for dinner. I brought a salad since they'd ordered from Chick Filet.
Was so happy to see Grace and Max as it had been nearly a month.
Max wanted to sit next to me. Below is his school picture they just got.
Gosh I feel like the popular girl I never was, only when I got to run my own support group.
He fell today in nursery school and showed me his boo-boo.
Whenever he got off the couch in the den, he limped as if to help the pain.
Dan bought a new Sony Playstation. He put goggles over my head and I watched a hologram-like scenario of being in the ocean.
An amazing experience.
Max, who loves trains, was watching on the big screen a series of Train Crossing Videos Dan had downloaded from YouTube.
Amazing, with the sound of the bells and the train cars.
Max was naming the tankers, filled with milk, he said, tho he only drinks water, and a flatbed trailer with steel pipes on it.
You know what I'm gonna do now?
Watch an Ingmar Bergman film.... Wild Strawberries... from the library, of course.
Nix the movie. PBS has the story of the new play HAMILTON on right now. Will grab my trail mix and head upstairs.
I learned in the Writing Group than when you write an ellipsis - it's three dots.
Finally finished one of my 4 books, which means I can start reading something else. Peut-etre Rebecca, our next book of the month club.
This was not an easy read. Perhaps none of his books are.
Henry and Owen in Rome. People would stop to look at them on the street and even bend down to kiss them on the cheek.
Smells like rain now and I hear it pattering on the street. The street of Willow Grove, not Rome or New Orleans or even Cleveland, where I talked to my family there this morning.
It was pouring, they said, and told me it would be coming our way.
You're right, Jack, Linda and Aunt Selma.
Got my flu shot today. By bloggin it, I can remember when I got it. I do have a sheet but...
Anyway, Hannah gave it to me and it was painless. Had to wait a few minutes for her, so I chose to read a paperback by J R Ward, who I'd never heard of.
REQUIEM
Louise Hay in her 90th year
is no doubt grieving as am I
for the PBS guru, we might as
well call him a preacher, like
Ecclesiastes. His message
Be Christ-like, I applaud
that, though I could never
be as bold as The Nazarene
which the Jews call him.
The guru breathed his last
at 75. A heart attack stilled
his defiant heart. Did he
feel it coming? Did he inhale
and say, I release myself
to the stars?
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