Tell Me Everything

My writing style is tight.  I try to eliminate every single word that I deem unnecessary.  Years ago, when part of my job was to edit marketing pieces, they referred to me as "the slasher." I took it as a compliment. 

On the other hand, I love the author Elizabeth Strout.  My niece, Sheri, and I have enjoyed reading her novels for years.  A fun part of her collection is that some of the same characters pop up in every book.  Several of them are in this book.  Olive Kitteridge has been around forever, first as the protagonist and later in other novels, in large and small roles. 

At some point, Lucy Barton took center stage. 

When Sheri sent me Strout's latest book, I thought, "Oh no, I can't read this.  After being ill for the past few months, my brain in not back to its full capacity."

And, trust me, you need brain capacity to read this novel.  It has multiple, multiple characters, doing and saying seemingly unremarkable things. 

But, like Picasso's elusive art pieces "Tell Me Everything" is not on trial.  It's been on the New York Times best seller list for a while.   This past Sunday it was #3.  And, more importantly to some, it's this year's Oprah pick.  

Sheri read her copy over a weekend.  After a couple of weeks I finally finished mine this morning.

Unlike "Seinfeid" this book's not about nothing.  It's about everything.  Following is a quote.

Olive laughed.  She really laughed at that. "Lucy Barton, the stories you told me - as far as I can tell - had very little point to them. Okay, okay, maybe they had subtle points to them. I don't know what the point is to this story!"

"People," Lucy said quietly, leaning back.  "People and the lives they lead.  That's the point."

"Exactly," Olive nodded.

My favorite character in all of Elizabeth Stout's novels is, and has always been, Olive Kitteridge.  My guess would be that she's the favorite of most of Stouts' readers.  Except, possibly, Sheri.  My guess is that Sheri's favorite might be Lucy Barton. 

 Like me, Olive is getting old and slowing down.  She is 91 in this book.  But, as my grandma used to say, still full of vinegar.  My guess is that she might be the favorite of the author as well, since Olive Kitteridge is responsible for Elizabeth Stout winning the Pulitzer Prize. 

Thank you Elizabeth and Sheri for this life affirming book. 

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Thanks for Memories

Yesterday I returned a glass jar, with beautiful wicker braiding and a little wire handle, to my neighbor.  A couple of weeks prior, after I'd returned from the hospital, she left the jar on my doorstep filled to the brim with flowers.

After removing the flowers and spreading the drying rose petals in my big potpourri basket, I filled the jar with wrapped chocolates and added the card pictured here.  

Then I couldn't get this picture out of my mind. 

I am feeling so very grateful for friends and family and my entire life.  Some of it hard.  Some of it life changing for myself and others.  Some of it scary, but worth it.  

This card was made from one of my husband, David's, paintings.  After years of hard, but meaningful work, we traveled all over Europe.   I remember this street.  I remember having lunch at one of those outside tables.  I remember David telling me that he and his first wife, Audrey, walked down the same street.  I don't remember what country we were in. 

David signed all of his paintings.  Sometimes the signature is hard to find.  In this one, it's on the menu. "Runyan 2016."

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Annie Potts

 I love Annie Potts. I loved her when she was the Ghostbusters sassy secretary.  I loved her as the wisecracking feminist in Designing Women.

And, now, at the age of 71, she's outdone herself as the beautiful, funny, strong, sexy Meemaw on Young Sheldon.  

I especially love the line she often uses "Are you tryin' to kill me?"  Like when she wakes up to young Sheldon beginning an analytical conversation.  Not at home in his own bed, but, unbeknownst to her, sleeping  next to her in her bed,    

23rd surgery

"Are you tryin' to kill me?"

But 71 year old Annie Potts has another story, one that's unbeknownst to many of us.  When she was 21 years old, she was hit, while walking, by a drunk driver.  She was left with every bone in her body below the waist (except one) broken.  

She recently had knee surgery.  But this wasn't her first surgery.  Over the years, she had many, 23 to be exact, including several knee replacements.

I wish every person in their 20s knew Annie Potts' broken body story.  For most of us, life is long, and tragedy happens, but it does not have to define us.

By the way, I sometimes want to say to family members whom I love........"Are you tryin' to kill me?"

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