life — Page 193

Cold, Wind, Shopping & The Laundry Story

January 19, 2016 at 8:42 am by Claudia

Crap, it’s cold out there!

Yesterday was frigid, with a wind that was relentless. It pounded on my car as I drove to do some shopping. It nearly knocked me off my feet as I tried to navigate the shopping cart and put the bags in the trunk of the car. As I said on IG, I thought I might turn into an icicle.

After I unloaded all the bags from the car, trooped across the parking lot, and brought them up to the apartment, I made myself French Toast for lunch.

Because I deserved it.

And it was good!

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More unbelievably inexpensive flowers from Trader Joe’s, in a vase I found in the cupboard over the refrigerator. Actors’ apartments usually accumulate a number of vases, as they are often sent flowers for opening night and don’t want or need to take the vase home with them. (I found another one, as well.)

From what I’ve read and/or heard directly from the employees, working for Trader Joe’s is a good thing. Everyone always seems happy to be there and I think the benefits and pay are good enough to keep employees working there for a long time. Heck, if there was one nearer to my home, I’d apply. I also like that they hire workers of all ages.

I won’t go into what I feel about Walmart, on the other hand, except to say I will not shop there.

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How did these get in my bag?

You have to love Trader Joe’s packaging and graphics. How could I not bring these home with me?

I do have a complaint. TJ’s sells basmati rice. They sell jasmine rice. They sell wild rice. They do not sell brown rice, except in re-heatable form, which is dreadful and tasteless and soggy. Neither, apparently, does Target. The Target I go to here is much larger than the one I frequent back home and it has an extensive grocery section. No brown rice. Jasmine rice? Yes. Basmati rice? Yes. White rice? Yes. NO BROWN RICE. (Except for Minute Rice and I don’t want to go there.) I just want brown rice that I can cook for 45 minutes in a big old pot.

What the heck?

The Laundry Story: This apartment building has a washer and dryer on every floor. Every floor, that is, except for the one where my apartment is. We are given a laundry card when we arrive and there’s a machine on the 7th floor where we can add money to the card in order to operate the machines.

I wanted to do laundry on Sunday night, but I only had singles and the machine takes only 5, 10, or 20 dollar bills.

So yesterday, I got some cash and after all the shopping, decided to do my laundry. I went up a floor and put a load in the washer. Then I went up two floors and put my other load in the washer there.

I figured I’d combine both loads in one dryer. Since the dryer on the floor above me wasn’t working, I grabbed that load when it was finished and walked it up two floors to where the other load was just finishing. Both loads went in that dryer.

After the 60 minutes or so allotted to drying, I went up there to take the load out of the dryer.

It wasn’t dry. (This has happened to me before when staying here.) I inserted the card (more money, of course) to get more drying time. The dryer stopped working. It took the money, but nothing happened. At this point, another tenant came in with a load to wash and she tried to get it to work, but couldn’t.

I gathered everything up, went up two more floors to the ninth floor and stuck everything in that dryer. More money.

After sixty minutes, I went up there only to discover that one of my t-shirts had caught on something and the dryer door had opened and nothing had dried.

Insert many curses here. Many.

More money, as I fixed the t-shirt problem and re-inserted the card for another 60 minutes of drying.

What should have taken about 90 minutes, took three hours.

I did get a lot of exercise out of it.

Reward: Hot chocolate.

I was watching the local news last night and, much to my horror, the weather guy talked about a Nor’easter that might come in this weekend.

This weekend, as in the time I would like to go home for a visit.

I quickly grabbed my phone and checked out the weather app and what they are predicting isn’t pretty: 5-8 inches of snow during the day Saturday, with another 5 inches later that night. And more the next day.

Maybe they’re wrong? Maybe it will track further out to sea and we’ll be fine?

All I know is that our previously mild winter has taken a turn for the worse. It’s definitely January, my friends.

Sad, very sad, about the untimely death of Glenn Frey. Too young. I am a big Eagles fan and it’s impossible to imagine them without him. What a talent he was!

Too many losses in January.

I have one-on-one coaching sessions this afternoon. It’s still windy out there, in fact, there’s a wind advisory throughout the day. I’ll be bundled up as I make my way to the rehearsal studio.

Courtesy of Shelf Awareness, a quote from the late, great David Bowie on books and reading – on today’s Just Let Me Finish This Page.

Happy Monday.

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Field of Dreams

January 18, 2016 at 8:15 am by Claudia

As I was headed back to the apartment yesterday, I stopped at the park. I remember these lovely twinkly lights from a previous wintertime visit.

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This is the way I walk to the library – on the other side of these apartment buildings is the Athenaeum – a wonderful museum – and the Hartford Public Library. It takes me all of five minutes to walk there from the apartment building.

What’s just beyond these trees to the right, out of picture range?

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A skating rink! The city of Hartford makes an ice skating rink every year in this particular area. Free skating for all. You can even rent skates here.

Looks like someone took a tumble.

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And there’s a staff member, checking to make sure the skater is okay.

I grew up in Michigan, as you know, and for many, many years of my youth, there was a big open field across from my house. Every year, the city would flood a certain area of the field and create an ice rink. I’d put on my skates, walk across the street, and skate to my heart’s content. My brother would play ice hockey. In fact, he lost a front tooth playing hockey! A wayward puck, I believe.

I haven’t skated for years, but this sure brings back memories and I couldn’t help smiling as I watched all the skaters. Don, a Southern California boy, is always fascinated by the fact that I ice skated. Every time it comes up – which isn’t that often – he quizzes me about the whole thing. But it was simply what we did in Michigan. We went sledding, we went tobaggoning, we went ice skating.

Of course, I always ended up getting cold and I’d troop back home for some hot chocolate.

That was the same field where I would gallop, pretending I was a horse.

And the same field where I played in the dirt with my pals.

And the same field I cut across on my homeward walk from high school.

And the same field where there were fireworks on the Fourth of July, which we’d watch from our porch.

A field of dreams.

Eventually, the city sold the land and a bunch of new houses were built there. I never got over that. They didn’t suit our neighborhood of very modest bungalows and ranch houses. They stuck out like a sore thumb. They took away my field.

Now, my hometown has been built up so much that it barely resembles the city I knew. Oh, it’s recognizable, but suburban sprawl and the endless ‘need’ to build, build, build has taken its toll.

Sigh.

I have a day off today so I’m going to be running errands and doing laundry. Exciting, right?

Happy Monday,

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On Loss

January 15, 2016 at 9:11 am by Claudia

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Lord, I love my morning coffee!

This morning is one of those mornings where it tastes like the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had. I’m savoring it. On my second cup now: Peet’s French Roast, pour-over method, which is now the only way I make my coffee. The apartment has a Keurig, a very nice one, but this is my preferred method.

The mug is from Billy’s Bakery in NYC. I had to bring it with me.

Alan Rickman’s death has really thrown me for a loop. I can’t get him out of my mind. Too young, of course, at 69 – much too young. He was one of my favorite actors and not because of any Harry Potter movies. I’ve never seen one. I have, however, seen him onstage, many years ago at the Edinburgh Festival, and he was, as you would expect, compelling and amazing and mesmerizing. He had talent galore and a charisma that was undeniable. I felt that charisma that evening. I loved his work in Truly, Madly, Deeply (one of my favorite movies) and in Sense and Sensibility and a host of other films. His performances were never boring, always impeccable, always riveting.

He had a voice that this vocal coach found endlessly fascinating. He shouldn’t be gone. He should still be with us.

Another great stage actor – Brian Bedford – also passed away a few days ago. He was one of the best. I was fortunate enough to see him onstage in Stratford, Ontario in the seventies – with Maggie Smith – and I still remember his performance. And hers. They are imbedded in my memory; magical, powerful, delightful, something I could only dream of doing as a young actress – I could go on and on with the adjectives. I watched him onstage in a couple of different productions. In Twelfth Night, he played Malvolio and at one point, when aroused in the middle of the night, he entered carrying a teddy bear. Oh, what a fine actor he was.

Such enormous losses for the Theater. Such talent, humanity,kindness and compassion gone in a flash.

Too much loss.

Meredith and I were talking yesterday about how our father’s death has affected us much more deeply than we had imagined it would. We miss him so much. And we’re very sad that her little boy, Little Buddy or, as I call him, Little Z, only had a brief time with his grandfather. My father adored him. He found him delightful and fascinating and loved nothing more than cuddling and reading to him. I think it’s fair to say that Little Z was the light of my dad’s life.

I had a message on Facebook yesterday from a guy I grew up with – we went to the same church. He wanted me to know that the Pastor of our church died on January 10th. Pastor Rolik was such a strong and powerful part of my young life; a gentle, compassionate and truly kind man. He was my mom’s age – she would have been 88. Such sad news to hear and, of course, my immediate reaction was that I needed to tell Mom. And Dad.

And I can’t.

The condo is now officially on the market. When it was listed, Meredith sent me the link.

Seeing it empty with nothing left from the many years my parents lived there was depressing. And very sad.

I guess this has ended up being a post about loss and grief and sadness.

On a happier note, rehearsals are going well. I truly love table work. I’m always eager to start again the next day. And isn’t that wonderful?

The apartment is great. (I really do like these apartments.) I’m reading a lot when I first get up and again in the evening, after I finish my dinner. Yes, I miss Don and Scout, but I’m having a lovely time here. This always happens, you know. I dread leaving home but once I get settled, I adjust quickly and really enjoy my time in Hartford.

Happy Friday.

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Cold, Wind, Shopping & The Laundry Story

Field of Dreams

On Loss

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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