Adventures in Atlanta, GA

Jed appeared Friday a week ago, in a big beautiful new vehicle that Santa brought him. We spent a delightful evening (Soup Night) as Sister Susan's on Friday, and then Saturday evening Sister Ramey hosted a wonderful feast of turkey and the trimmings at her house.

We didn't do much on Christmas day except open some presents and read some books. Then Monday we were off to Jed's house in Atlanta. I had been there once before--to his house, I mean. Since then I had been to Atlanta to an Oxford-Shakespeare convention. Mostly what I remember doing for the best part of four days was eating until I was stupefied. We ate steak at Longhorn on the way out of Leeds, and in Atlanta we ate Mexican and I don't know what-all. The staff at the Mexican restaurant hollered and took on over Jed, hugged us repeatedly, and fed us sumptuously--turns out that Jed hangs out there a lot and has charmed the proprietress.

Here are some pics of Jed's renovated kitchen.

Directly above, on the left, is a bit of the marble tile backsplash, and the beautiful granite countertop with undermounted sink. The photo on the right is the gorgeous travertine floor. Click on the photos to enlarge for detail.

For Christmas Jed gave me a new toaster-oven, and for my birthday (which was Tuesday) a lovely pair of furry leather scuffs so I'll quit running around the house in my socks.

It was a wonderful Christmas and birthday season, and I thank the Lord for all my loved ones and friends, both those who were here and those who were not. Jed and I got back to Leeds Thursday evening. I persuaded him to stay over that night and rest instead of driving back immediately. So he went home yesterday, and I have slept most of the time since then.

The Dolls' House



All decked out for Christmas



All the rooms.

The Front Door



Kitchen - Cook has brought her baby to work.







The Living Room - Where is everybody?

Daddy is calling up the stairs, telling Mama that Grandma has arrived--they're taking her out to dinner!




But Mama Doll is still in the bathtub! (Baby Doll is in his cradle,
minding his own business.)

Lucinda the upstairs maid is admiring the Christmas tree in the study.



Little Dolly has dressed up to go out with the grownups, but
big Camilla knows they won't be allowed. (The girls' room with
their books and dolls.)

***
The house is crowded, with ten people, four cats and two dogs.

***
Merry Christmas from the Family!

Left to Right
Front Row: Peter Alexander, age 6 mo.
Camilla, age 8
The rocking horse Peter got for Christmas (Daddy will buy him a bicycle next year.)
Dolly, age 4
Daddy (Alexis Hugh Doll)
Tiny, the terrier
Back Row: Beauty, the parlor maid
Lucinda, the upstairs maid
Spot, the spaniel
Grandma (Mrs. Dolly Buff-Orpington)
Keenya, the cook, and her little boy Beolius
Mama Doll (Miranda)
(The cats were hiding.)

A carrot for the donkey

Spent the morning trying to get inspired to stand up and move. Actually, moving is one of the few things I still like to do. While making coffee, I do stretching exercises, make sure I can still touch the floor without bending my knees, etc.

Samuel Johnson said (I paraphrase), "Of all the noises, music is perhaps the least offensive." I still like some music, sometimes.

Food? Ho hum. Unless I get hungry, I don't care much. Yesterday I did make an effort, cooked squash and cornbread, and made a bowlful of corn salad. And a Great Divide milkshake for dessert. Food is pretty good, if you're hungry. Trouble is, after a great meal, you have to go to the store to replace what you cooked and ate.

Shakespeare is still worth moving for. But it's pretty exhausting, after most of a lifetime spent trying to straighten out the matter.

Writing poems? It's not something you can just sit down and do. You have to have some emotion to remember in tranquillity (Wordsworth--Bill or Dorothy).

I think the only thing that would make me holler, and jump up and down, would be for River City to call and say, "Mrs. Cage, we would like to publish your book."

"Anonymous"

I recently read a comprehensive review of the movie "Anonymous," and now I want to see it. Apparently, it either alleges or hints at many of the things I believe to be true about the real Shakespeare, including the most important "fact."

A few nights ago, I watched "Neverland" on TV, and that Ifans guy played Hook. He looks like a good choice to play Oxford in "Anonymous."

So, my plan is to see the movie, then write a paper and add a string of references from my 50-odd years of studying Shakespeare. And then I want to see if the Leeds Arts Council will schedule me a program time to read my paper to an audience. That probably can't happen until next season, so maybe I should negotiate the time, before I start writing the paper.

This idea is part of an appeal by the Oxford Shakespeare Society, for members to "educate" the public on the identity  question, and to explain some points in the movie. I received their letter yesterday, and it commented favorably on the movie, and put the presentation idea into my head.

Another Recurring Song

This is another one that runs through my head sometimes (I like this one):

I'll Be There

There ain't no chains strong enough to hold me
Ain't no breeze big enough to slow me
I never have seen a river that's too wide
There ain't no jail tight enough to lock me
Ain't no man big enough to stop me
I'll be there if you ever want me by your side
So love me if you ever gonna love me
I never have seen a road too rough to ride
There ain't no chains strong enough to hold me
There ain't no breeze big enough to slow me
I'll be there if you ever want me by your side


Now there ain't no rope tight enough to bind me
Look for me honey you will find me
Any old time you're ready with your charm
I'll be there ready and a waitin'
There won't be any hesitatin'
I'll be right here if you ever want me in your arms
So love me if you ever gonna love me
I never have seen a road too rough to ride
There ain't no chains strong enough to hold me
There ain't no breeze big enough to slow me
I'll be there if you ever want me by your side
I'll be there if you ever want me by your side

The 18

I have a recurring dream of running to catch the No. 18 bus on the Southside. Sometimes it's from my apartment, sometimes at Five Points, occasionally at UAB. Always, when I'm just a few steps from it, the bus pulls away. It's as if the driver watches me and leaves when I'm almost there. That really used to happen sometimes.

I had the dream last night. The scene before and after I run to catch the bus is always different. This time, I was getting dressed to go to work, and Mama was there, and she told me I could wear her blazing hot-pink printed skirt. Then after the bus left me stranded, a convertible car full of six of my college acquaintances stopped at the curb, and I squeezed into the back seat and started talking to them. But close up, they weren't who I thought they were, but a bunch of unshaven, sort of thuggy-looking guys. When I explained and apologized for getting into their car, the one beside me said it was all right, they would drop me off at work.

Explain that one, Dr. Freud.

The Blahs

Lately I'm not in the mood for holidays. Or much of anything else. There's too much of this-and-that that I need to do hanging over my head, that I can't think of anything else. And I don't get anything done. It's not that I don't give-a-damn. I'd love to see all the repairs done and the house spotless, and the car washed and the oil changed, and the clothes washed, and the teeth cleaned and filled and the hair cut and the nails clipped--all that stuff that life is full of.

What I need is another cup of coffee, and I'll be right back in the game. I hope.