HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR HARRY...

Yes, I just posted on how I'm reading Lord of the Rings currently rather than Harry Potter...


But it's Harry's birthday, so I thought I'd better at least give our favorite wizard a shoutout (you know, send him an e-card, that sort of thing). And the best way I can do that is to link you to this lovely post courtesy of Harry fan (and longtime friend of this blog) Beth.

(As you read it, don't you love the image of the now-adult Harry thinking back to the time Hagrid showed up on the rock with the squished birthday cake! Harry's birthdays are certainly memorable, that's for sure!

Enjoy!

THE ROAD GOES EVER ON AND ON

I may not be quite ready to start Harry Potter from the beginning yet... but I have started back down another long and beautiful road.

As I've blogged about from time to time, I read all the Harry Potter books out loud to my family. My kids, once they were old enough, were not allowed to read any of the books as they came out until (a) mom had read them and (b) mom had read them to the whole family. (And then each kid grabbed the books and devoured them -- enough so that Cory handily won our Harry trivia contest last fall.)

But that's not the first time I've read a long story to a family member... When Lee and I got engaged, he had never read The Lord of the Rings. I couldn't imagine marrying someone who hadn't read those books, as important as they were to me (even as important as they were to my becoming a Christian). But Lee didn't really feel like sitting down for an enforced reading of 1400 pages. So he asked if I would read the books to him.

By the end of Chapter One, "A Long-Expected Party," he was hooked. We spent a good part of the next year reading, and it was a wonderful experience.

And now it's time to read LOTR again, this time to my kids.

They won't have the "pure" experience that Lee had, or, for that matter, that I had in reading them as a teenager. For one thing, Cory has already read them (speed-read the last one, I fear), because Mom insisted he had to read them before he would be allowed to see the movies. For another thing, the movies have polluted their mental images of the books and characters (can you tell I'm not a huge fan of the movies? Don't even get me started on what they did with the Sword That Was Broken!)...

But Harry Potter is over and done, with no foreseeable family reading ahead of us until the time comes for Grandma (shudder!) to pull out Sorcerer's Stone for the grandkids... Until Sabrina, a couple of months ago, asked if I would read LOTR out loud.

She has not read the books. She tried to read The Hobbit and got a bit bogged down. (Which I understand -- when I read The Hobbit, it didn't make me rush out to start The Fellowship of the Ring immediately. And I've never felt a deep need to go back to it as I do with LOTR proper.)

So we have started our journey... to Mordor and back again. Lee and Cory, despite knowing the story, are avidly a part of this family read as well. It's a very different read, as it turns out, from Harry Potter. Much slower. Less funny (though I find myself milking every possible funny moment for all it's worth). All those long descriptions of countryside and forests and moonlight and whatnot. And the chapters are so long that we haven't gotten through a full one yet.

But we're four chapters in ("A Short-cut to Mushrooms"), and the kids are soaking it up. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to see my kids love the things I love. (Probably how Lee feels when Cory lectures him on how important The Beatles were to the history of rock.)

We hit the road for Family Camp in a couple of days, and that will give us plenty of reading time (especially because the hotel we're stopping at along the way has no TVs -- ha! How devious am I!)... I expect to hit Rivendell by the time school starts or sooner, and then we'll be well on our way...

And I can't think of a Road I'd rather be following...

MOVIE THOUGHTS: JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH

I should have posted these thoughts a couple of weeks ago, but I have been dealing both with my mother's increasing problems and with the need to finish and deliver a script, and so have been, um, distracted.

I'm deeply biased when it comes to this movie, because my stepbrother Eric Brevig directed it. Eric is an Oscar-winning special effects wiz, and I'm so pleased that he finally got a chance to direct his own movie, after doing second unit and effects unit directing on so many others.

So I'm very happy both at how well Eric's movie turned out, and at how well it's done at the box office (holding much much better, for instance, than Hellboy 2). With adult fare like The Dark Knight and Mamma Mia on so many screens, I'm glad there's such a solid family movie out there, and the box office certainly reflects that I'm not the only one who's glad!

Journey is a re-imagining of the Jules Verne book of the same name. Instead of a 1800s period piece, we follow the story of geologist Brenden Fraser whose more illustrious geologist brother has gone missing. It turns out that the brother had come to believe the Jules Verne book was non-fiction, and had set out to investigate. Following in his brother's footsteps, and saddled with his nephew, Fraser heads for Iceland, where he hooks up with a female tour guide and they had (ta-da!) for the center of the earth.

Once below the surface, the explorers find the remains of the brother's previous failed expedition, as well as some nifty dinosaurs and sea serpents. Ultimately they explode their way up the volcanic tube of Mt. Etna, and land in Italy, just as Verne's adventurers did before them. And all of this, by the way, is in 3-D.

Since the 3-D was the big selling point, presumably, let's look at that first. Frankly, I tend to find 3-D gimmicky. If a story is good enough to be told, I don't think it needs it. And with Journey, I think I'd like to see it again in 2-D (which I understand is a very different experience) because I expect it would hold up just fine. There are indeed some very fun 3-D moments in the movie -- the dino chasing, nasty teeth with fangs jumping out at us (Lee yelped and jumped out of his seat on that one!), and the like, all very well done. There are a couple of competing 3-D systems out there right now, and I do have to say I found the glasses for the Hannah Montana concert movie this year to be much more comfortable than the glasses for Journey -- I do wear glasses of my own, so that's always more of an issue than it is for those with better vision.

When I stepped out of Journey, I did feel that it had been under-budgeted. I assumed the budget had been about $70 million -- really small for an effects-driven movie -- and that they could have done so much better if they'd had the money to expand the cast, give us more over-the-top effects. Imagine my shock, then, when I read that the budget was more in the $45 range -- what a studio might normally pay for a romantic comedy or small drama. I was stunned! With that budget, Eric's work becomes positively heroic.

I think they made the right choice in updating the story to present-day -- and that's something I am rarely in favor of. So many of the book's elements are so ludicrous that asking us to believe them without the presence of the actual Jules Verne book would just make a modern audience roll its eyes. So, good choice there. Also thought the casting of Brendan Fraser was perfect -- he hits such a delicate balance between wide-eyed innocence and believable knowledgability in these films, and he walked that line beautifully here. So again, good work.

Bottom line: A movie that delivers far beyond anything its stingy studio could have hoped for, and that provides welcome counterprogramming to all the hyper adult themes and stories in the marketplace at the moment. I do hope the studio indeed follows up with the hinted-at (in the movie's ending scene) sequel about Atlantis, and that they give the movie the budget it deserves.

WHAT WERE YOU DOING A YEAR AGO?

So I'm a couple of days late with this post, as I've been racing around trying to deal with my mother's situation.

But many of you reading know exactly what you were doing a year ago today. Or a year ago yesterday.

You were reading.

That's certainly what I was doing. I was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as carefully and as slowly as I could force myself to go, in the full knowledge that I would never get to experience again the first reading of a Harry Potter book.


I was gasping in shock at Hedwig's death (How could she?) -- then shivering with fear as I realized no one was safe. My heart was breaking as Ron walked out on Harry and Hermione, then quivering with hope as he returned in the Forest of Dean. I was sobbing at Dobby's oh-so-brave death. I was stepping through the story with fear, still believing that Harry would live... but wondering what if I was wrong... I was in joy over Tonks and Lupin -- then in sorrow. I was so proud of our three heroes (especially Hermione). I was puzzling out the clues to the Hallows. I was breathless with the pace of the story from Gringotts on -- then in awe of how well the story paid off thousands of pages of set-ups. I was walking with Harry into the Forbidden Forest to sacrifice himself (myself) to Voldemort... then rejoicing (just a tad smugly, I admit) when the situation I had predicted unfolded, and Hagrid carried out Harry, who was still alive even though everyone believed he was dead. I was thrilling with Neville the true Gryffindor, sobbing with the death of Fred, screaming along with Molly at Bellatrix. And I was stunned that it was, at last, all over.

The only other reading experience I can remember similar to Harry Potter was, in a smaller way, my first reading of The Lord of the Rings, when I bought the first book at a high school book fair not realizing it was one story, not a set of three sequels. I was shocked at the end of Fellowship of the Ring when Frodo heads off toward Mordor with just Sam... especially because I couldn't afford to buy the next book for another week or two, and it was pure torture.

I am so grateful to have been alive during all these years of waiting for the next book -- an experience that no one else will really have in the future.

As soon as I finished Deathly Hallows a year ago today, I started it all over again, trying to savor the little moments I had rushed over. And then I sat down and read it again, this time out loud to my family. We finished it in mid-August.

And I haven't picked it up again. None of them. I spent so long, immersed so deeply in the world of Harry Potter that I just needed to step away. And I do owe an apology to all the people who came here for Harry-related posts, and stopped finding them. But soon I expect to go back, to see what it feels like to read the series again without trying to predict what happens next.

I expect it will hold up.

THE BOOKS OF THE SECOND QUARTER

I realize we're almost a full month into the third quarter, and I should have posted this earlier, but it's been a fairly wild summer, so please bear with me...

I've continued my reading through the Madeleine L'Engle catalogue in more or less chronological order, but somehow the books of the 1960s proved a bit tough at times this quarter. I filtered in a few other books, and frankly, didn't quite make it through all of Madeleine's (sorry....). I'm about to start on her nonfiction, so expecting that to be more rewarding.

Clearly I didn't get much reading done last quarter. I'll try harder!

Here are the books of the spring in alpha order. Books I loved are linked to their amazon page. If you're planning on reading any of these, consider this whole post to have a general spoiler warning.

The Arm of the Starfishby Madeleine L'Engle.
The story of a young man who takes a summer job with a marine biologist in Portugal and gets swept up into international intrigue when bad guys want the scientist's findings for their own nefarious purposes. This is always a hard book for me to read because many, many years ago, Lee and I tried to adapt it as a screenplay (obviously it didn't go anywhere). So as I read it, questions occur to me that wouldn't occur to a casual reader (e.g., What does Typhon Cutter do for a living?). Even with the many expositionary gaps, I think the book mostly holds up: We feel Adam's confusion, we are shocked at Joshua's death, and the moments with Macrina are just magical. And it's fun to see that Meg and Calvin from A Wrinkle in Time did get married, and what they ended up doing. Why isn't it linked to amazon here? Because ultimately the backstory is so lacking: Starfish is trying to be a junior thriller, and it doesn't really work on that level because we don't know anything about the villain, or why he wants what he wants. Still, a rewarding read.

The Love Letters by Madeleine L'Engle
A woman who has just left her husband finds a book of love letters written by a nun long ago, and gets wrapped up in them -- and we time shift back to the story of the nun as well. I know people who love this book, but I couldn't get more than about 80 pages into it. The writing was so flowery, the time shifts seemed precious at times and just didn't work for me, and ultimately nothing seemed to be happening. This was the book where I decided that I wouldn't force myself to read Madeleine's entire canon just to have read it. Sorry... to those of you who love the book.

The Moon by Night by Madeleine L'Engle.
When the Austin family from Meet the Austins goes on a cross-country camping trip, Vicky finds herself attracted to both Zach and Andy, two boys who couldn't be more different... I'm probably linking this book because it helped me remember how strongly I loved it when I was, oh, about my daughter's age, and just felt Vicky's confusion and incipient passion so strongly. I'd love to hear from any guys who've read it, as I would expect they'd not like it at all, for the most part. But I really enjoyed reading it again after all these years.

The Other Side of the Sun by Madeleine L'Engle.
Another one I couldn't get into. I tried. But this time I only made it 20 pages or so. Maybe I was just in the wrong mood...

Summerland by Michael Chabon.
Three kids are called into an alternative universe, reflecting American myth, to help save our own world, in part by playing baseball.... This was a difficult read for me. A painful read. I loved loved loved this book when I originally read it. It moved me incredibly deeply, helped me understand that living with a foot in two worlds at the same time is a positive thing, really went into my soul. And when I reread it last month... I was bored. Oh, how I wanted to have the same experience as the first time I read it (okay, close to the same -- you can only do something the first time once -- but, say, the experience of rereading Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. And I just didn't. How I wish I had.


The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference by Malcolm Gladwell.
Here's a re-read that did stand up, and emphatically so. I had to read it to make a presentation, and once again I was blown away by the depth of insight therein, as well as the sheer readability. Gladwell pulls together bits of research from all sorts of fields to discuss how social change is viral, and what elements are needed to cause social trends to "tip" into expected behavior. Fascinating. A must-read.


A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle.
What a strange book this really is. Inexplicably haunting, yet impossible to explain logically. As you probably know, it's the story of a misfit girl who travels to another dimension (or something) with her genius little brother and a neighbor/popular-kid-at-school/smarter-than-anyone-knows future boyfriend to save her father who has been trapped by evil on a strange planet. This is not a novel that could be written by anyone who plans what they're going to write, and yet somehow it all works. Lee and I almost got the chance to adapt it for the screen once (instead, they hired another writer and ended up with an abomination of a TV movie), and would be overcome with joy if we ever got the job. An odd but utterly compelling book.

The Young Unicorns by Madeleine L'Engle.
Not one of Madeleine's best, but very readable. The Austins are back again, this time in New York, and they get mixed up with a conspiracy centering around druggish misdoings by the Bishop at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Canon Tallis of Arm of the Starfish makes an appearance. The whole thing reads as very 1960's, and feels dated, but the characters are so compelling, we can overlook that. Again, Madeleine manages to build tension around an utterly unbelievable villain with really inexplicable plans. But still a fun read.

You're Wearing That? Understanding Mothers and Daughters in Conversation by Deborah Tannen.
I started off as a linguist, so usually enjoy reading popular books by linguists. And I did like You're Wearing That?, but felt it really was more Tannen's personal effort to work through her own issues with her mother than it was a real study of mother-daughter communication. No amazing insights, nothing particularly surprising. (Mothers critique their daughters' hair a lot. Wow.) I've really enjoyed Tannen's other books, where she's a little less personal. This just wasn't quite up to her usual standards.

...Okay, back to reading. Let me know what you think!

SHE'S COME UNDONE

My apologies for not blogging much this past week. I have movie reviews to post, book reviews, other stuff... but I have been unfortunately distracted.

My mother, who is legally blind and suffers from early-stage Alzheimer's, last week had what one might consider a psychotic break. She attacked her caretaker physically, called her horrible names, and called the police to have her taken away. While the police were there, she threatened to kill herself multiple times (this is nothing new -- she threatens suicide regularly, thinking it will get her attention and sympathy, but never in front of the police before).

As a result, her caretaker quit (duh). I have found a home to move my mom into in three weeks, but still have to find temporary care for her during that time, have to deal with Adult Protective Services who are responding to the police report, have to get her ready to move (despite her insistance that she will kill herself before she will be moved), and have to deal with her increasingly insane threats and her lack of contact with observable reality.

Oh, and I have a script that was due last Friday.

So I'll try to find a moment in the next couple days to hope back on this blog and do a little posting. In the meantime, if you're a praying person, feel free to shoot up a prayer or two for Sophie.

Thanks.

THIS IS THE SUITE LIFE

One nice perk of the strike was meeting writers whose paths we would not normally cross. One was a writer at Suite Life of Zach and Cody, a show you probably haven't heard of unless you have kids and subscribe to the Disney Channel -- in which case it's probably on at your house at least twice a day.

We are actually very impressed with the writing and production on both Suite Life and Hannah Montana on the Disney Channel. In another era, they would have been part of the ABC "TGIF" Friday night line-up. They're definitely as good as many (scripted) shows on network TV these days.

And as a result of chatting with this writer on the picket line, we got an invitation to a taping of Suite Life -- now Suite Life on Deck (the show was originally about a pair of twins who live in the hotel where their mom works -- it's now moving locations to a cruise ship owned by that same hotel doing a "year at sea" program).


We had fun at the taping, and it was a great experience for the kids, who spent a lot of time checking out the set, watching what the cameras were doing, all that stuff that "industry kids" pay attention to.

And we got pictures with some of the stars. (Cory in particular did not seem to mind posing for this picture. Hmmm.)

A fun show, and a fun evening. Glad the strike was good for something!

A SMALL WORLD AND A BIG HEAVEN

I had a couple of moments of pure delight this weekend, and they both happened in church.

As I was slipping in, just a couple of minutes late, to join my family, I found myself snagged by someone. I turned around, and saw Bill.

Bill was a monumental person in my children's lives. He worked at their preschool at church, so he's known them both since they were 2 or 3. He taught at Vacation Bible School, taught them at Family Camp, taught them at our church's Wednesday night program. He wrote songs that made scripture memory a breeze, and showed them what a man of God looks like. I know my kids, Cory in particular, are the amazing people they are today in part because of the incredible influence of Bill.

But four years ago, he moved to Washington. We see him at Family Camp, and he has prayed for us faithfully during these years (which blows us away), but that's about it.

And there he was. Right there in church! After a big hug, I waved him toward Cory, a few rows back -- and he almost plotzed seeing the young man whose a good 5" taller than the boy he saw last summer. Needless to say, at the "meet-someone-you-don't-know" moment in the service, Sabrina clambered over several pews to get to Bill.

He left with friends just before the service ended, so we didn't get to talk. But as Sabrina and I were exclaiming over how wonderful it was to just run into him like that, I turned around and--

There was Coleman. The guy who gave us our start in the business, who hired us for our very first writing gig. Who coached us in our craft and who challenged us about what it means to be a Christian in the biz. He was down from northern California and right there in our church (which he hadn't attended when he lived here, but which his son attends now).

We had just a few minutes to get caught up a bit, then off we were on our own paths. But again, it was wonderful to have this unexpected moment.

And it got me thinking... This is probably just a tiny bit of what heaven will be like. Running into people who have been so important in our lives, with the sheer delight of finding them serendipitously. But with the difference that we won't have to run off because time won't matter in the same way. The grandest reunion of all time, but one that never ends. (Not to mention all the people we were born at the wrong time to meet on this earth!)

It is a small world, after all. But it's going to be a big heaven!

MOVIE THOUGHTS: WALL-E

I can imagine the pitch now.

"See, we have this great idea. It's about a robot. No, not like C3PO -- he's not humanoid, he doesn't talk. He's sort of ugly, actually. No face. He's our lead. The title character. But he doesn't really have a name. He's on earth, but he's the last one there -- well, except for a cockroach. The earth has been completely destroyed by toxic waste. Basically it's a trash dump. Then along comes this other robot, from outer space. She's all modern and high-tech and everything, and-- How do we know it's a "she"? Well, we just do. Don't worry, we'll make sure that works. Okay, so this second robot comes and our robot, he falls in love with her --That's right, they're robots.

"So off they go to outer space, but our robot doesn't get on the ship, so he has to hang on to the outside of her ship. Yes, the whole way. No, I'm sure the audience won't have any trouble believing it. And then when they land on the ship where the humans are, well, they're not what we expect. Actually they're pretty gross. That's a pun (snicker).

"I'm sorry? Where are we in the story when we see the humans? Oh, about the midpoint, heading for the end of the second act. Yes, that's right. There are no human characters in the first half of the movie. No, no talking animals either. In fact -- here's the best part -- there's no dialogue in the first half of the movie! Except we do get to see some old videotape of Hello Dolly -- but not the title song or anything anyone actually knows. We'll get to hear clips from a couple of songs no one remembers, though. Won't that be awesome?"

Oh yeah, every studio in town would be in a rush to buy that story...

Which is why I thank God for Pixar.

Wall-E is an astonishing movie. A remarkable movie. A poem about isolation and love and heroism and risk. It's funny and sweet and heartbreaking, and it makes its audience work to take it all in (silent films will do that for you). It's a message movie that never says an overt word about its message (which is, more or less, "Take care of what you've got," expressed in two major storylines).

Wall-E is some of the purest, most haunting moviemaking I have seen in a very, very long time. Film schools will be studying this for years to come.

The movie also succeeds in two small but special ways: It put a cockroach on screen for many, many minutes and never grossed me out (I have a horrid fear and detestation of cockroaches). And it answers definitively the question "How long can a Twinkie last?" (I expect to see many Twinkies on the menu at our Oscar party next year.)

This is a movie that one really should experience without hearing too much about it, so I will stop here.

When my kids were young, E.T. was re-released in theatres. We took the kids to see it. Cory in particular was spellbound at a movie that was so far above most of his standard TV fare. About two-thirds of the way through, he leaned over to me and said, "Mom, this is a very great movie, isn't it?" "Yes," I whispered back. "This is a very great movie."

Wall-E is a very great movie. Go see it.

THEATRE THOUGHTS: A CHORUS LINE

We were fortunate enough to see the national touring company of A Chorus Line the other night.

I had seen the show twice before. I saw it on Broadway during its original run when I was a teenager (still young enough to be shocked by the outspokenness). And not too long after we were married, Lee and I saw an up-close-and-personal version in a very small theatre, trying to duplicate the experience of what it was like when the show was still off-Broadway in a tiny house.

The show is over 30 years old now, so I was wondering whether it would hold up.

Suffice it to say, it did. In fact, I think I felt it much more personally and deeply now. Back then, it was a look at someone else's life. Now it's much too close to my own life.

Not that I'm out there doing high kicks and pirouettes every day (would that I could!). But, as Stephen Sondheim says in (the rewritten-for-Barbra-Streisand version of) "Putting It Together": "Everything you do, you still audition."

I think A Chorus Line should be mandatory viewing for everyone wanting to break in to Hollywood, especially as a performer. The drive and persistence it takes to get nowhere. The short shelf life a career can have. The camaraderie of all the other people who were odd in their hometown but fit right in with all the show biz crazies. The need to be so incredibly good at your craft just to be noticed (but, sometimes, not too good). It's all here.

Funny, but I could have sworn Cassie was singing just slightly different lyrics:

Give me somebody to write for
Give me somebody to show
Let me wake up in the morning to find
I have somewhere exciting to go
To have something that I can believe in
To have someone to be
Use me
Choose me
God, I'm a writer
A writer writes.

Okay, so the final scansion doesn't work. But, oh, does it apply.

As for the performances -- all very good, especially Val ("Dance Ten, Looks Three") and Diana ("Nothing," "What I Did For Love"). It's got to be hard to take lyrics that half the audience knows by heart and infuse something new into them. Something unusual in this production was that Zach (the director) came on stage before Paul gets hurt, and also danced in the closing number. Not sure how I felt about that.

Both Lee and I were surprised, though, at how underwhelming the choreography was (they were using the original choreography). Frankly, we see more exciting, more difficult choreography every week on So You Think You Can Dance. Two reasons for this, we thought: (1) The incorporation of "street" moves (breaking, hip hop, etc.) into contemporary/jazz/Broadway dance just makes it more exciting than dance was in general back in the '70s; and (2) They're not casting pure dancers who spend all their time perfecting their dance skills. They're casting actors/singers/dancers who are playing pure dancers, but who in actuality have to sing and act up to the level of their dancing or better -- and who are harder to find.

But it remains a heartbreaking show, and one that makes you appreciate the actors on stage like no other.

Lee told me that a friend of his from back in his musical theatre days ran into the actor who originated the role of Paul, and won a Tony for it. The actor in question was folding shirts at a West Hollywood clothing store, unable to get acting work. Shocking and sad -- but somehow, it sums up the whole show.

"What I Did For Love," indeed.

If the touring company comes your way, see the show. It remains a deeply moving, incredibly entertaining experience. (And very rated R, so don't take the kids).

A REAL (MINI-)VACATION

I know I've been gone for a week. And I have a really good reason. I was on vacation!

This may seem unremarkable for most people, but we just haven't had a lot of vacay in the past few years, other than Family Camp. A few days in Arizona a couple of years ago. A couple of trips to Carmel to visit the kids' missions when they were in 4th grade (the year kids are required to do California history, which in our school means writing a report on and building a model of one of the California missions). Other than that, it's been 8 years.


So when we got an invitation to check out the "Residence Club" at the Four Seasons near San Diego for about 15% of their going nightly rate, well, we felt we had to say yes. (Yes, it's really a time-share. But I think they'd faint dead if anyone said those words in their hearing. And it was much, much nicer than any time-share I've ever seen. Much. Very much. For instance, this is pretty much the view from our window.)

So off we went last week. And -- shock of shocks -- I didn't take my computer. Hence the lack of blogging. (And the lack of returning e-mails, if you are one who is feeling slighted at the moment.)

We had a lovely time. We didn't do much. A tiny bit of sightseeing. We went to the San Diego County Fair, where we somehow managed to avoid eating deep-fried twinkies.
At the fair, we saw Weird Al Yankovic in concert, which was an absolute blast (maybe a further post on that later). We spent a day at Legoland. We saw "Wall-E" (definitely a post on that coming up).

And mostly we sat by the absolutely stunning pool and read, and swam, and dipped in the Jacuzzi, and ordered smoothies (mango pina colada for me, please).


You know how sometimes when you have a massage you realize that you didn't even know how badly you needed a massage, and that you've now become aware of just how much pain you're really (still) in?

Well, that's what this vacation was like for me. I came home saying, "Wow, I could really use a vacation." I didn't know how badly I needed one... and this barely scratched the surface of the deep need for rest and relaxing that has clearly been building for a while.

But it's a start. And I feel much more ready for the double task that starts tomorrow of (a) driving kids to acting camp (Sabrina) and rock-&-roll camp (Cory) and (b) writing our next script.

And also more ready for doing some more posting. Which will also come this week, without the big gap. But at least now you know why I wasn't here. Thanks for checking in anyway!