It's That Wonderful Time of Year! Oscar Season.

It's all about Oscar, baby. Yes, this is MY superbowl.  I carefully view contenders throughout the year, with a wild last minute frenzy to see the last few nominees (if they make it here before THE night) in the weeks leading up to the most exciting night of the year!  For me.

I realize this is all kind of strange, but remember I am a pop culture junkie going way back.  In fact my own mother encouraged this when I was younger by letting me stay up late on Oscar night so we could watch the splendour together - in black and white.  When we finally got a color television in 1974 I thought I had finally arrived.

Of course I missed a few Oscars over the years.  There was college afterall.  Although I do recall watching "Rocky" win for best picture while I was slaving away at my studies.

Then there was the year The Maven broke her arm.  I had just put chicken in the oven to cook so we could watch the "Barbara Walters" lead-up interviews when The Maven's two friends came running in to tell us she had fallen off her bike and her arm was "messed up". Try getting the ER staff to put the Academy Awards on will you?  Of course, The Maven's arm was more important, but come on people...

The year that Cher won for Moonstruck, The Maven was 2 weeks old.  Mr. Tennis was out of town on business.  Grandma Hughes had left for home suffering with a really bad cold.  I was sick as a dog, but I watched "my" Oscars.  Dang it, I did!

My children know I get excited about it.  I can't help it!  I even won a contest one year and predicted all the winners.  I got a t-shirt for that skill.  My dream, of course, is to actually attend the awards in person.  Not as a screaming fan in the bleachers along the red carpet. I want to-be-in-the-building. They do have such a thing as seat-fillers and I suppose that will be the way I will worm my way in there one day.  Can't you just see me filling in for Meryl? Or Sandra? Or George?  Oh yes, I'd definitely fill in for George. 

Anyway, I digress.

I actually get more excited about the individual performances than which picture will win or which director.  My favorite categories are the acting ones, the costuming, the writing and music categories.  To me it's hard to pick a "best" picture when all nominated are so very different from each other.  Because I liked them for different reasons, I simply cannot choose one.  Favorites this year from pictures nominated:  "The Hurt Locker", "District 9", "An Education", "Precious" and "Up in the Air".

Now, ask me about Best Actress.  Saw all performances except for Helen Mirren. "The Last Station" has not come here yet. So, I am choosing from four of the five nominees.  I pick Gabourey Sidibe from "Precious". Love Meryl, love Sandra Bullock, thought the actress Carey Mulligan ("An Education") was great, but Gabby's performance was a career making one, in my opinion. I hope she will not be a one time contender.  The movie was wrenching, but really gave it's audiences a peek into a world many of them know very little about.

For Best Supporting Actress I have to go with an actress from "Precious" as well, Mo'nique.  To witness the transformation this comedienne underwent to play this role was incredible.  I hated her character with all my being and what a challenge it must have been to portray such a despicable character. If it can't be Mo'nique, then I'd give it to Anna Kendrick from "Up in the Air". What a controlled and believable performance she gave. 

Mo'nique as Precious' nasty Mama.

Best Actor is a difficult choice for me because any time I see Colin Firth, I want to give him any award possible.  How can you turn down "Mr. Darcy"? 

He was painfully good in "A Single Man", but my choice is between Jeff Bridges ("Crazy Heart"-just saw it this last weekend. Engrossing) and Jeremy Renner from "The Hurt Locker".  My crazy heart wants Jeff Bridges to get the award, but I think it will go to Jeremy Renner for his tense, steely portrayal of a military bomb defusion expert.

The Best Supporting Actor category is my weak area this year because I have yet to see any of the movies the nominees were in.  I do have a beef that Peter Sarsgaard was not nominated for his slimy performance in "An Education", but as I said, I haven't seen the others.  Although I will blindly throw my support behind Christopher Plummer ("The Last Station"-I can't abandon my childhood fear/love for him as Captain Von Trapp) and Stanley Tucci who plays against type in "The Lovely Bones", a wonderful book.

I also wish that the actor/technician that portrayed the lead "Prawn" in "District 9" would get a nod.  I felt such empathy for this atrocious looking alien, and I'm not an alien-lovin'-science fiction-gal.  But this creature/actor/special effect gave a heart-wrenching performance.  I hope they are recognized in the Special Effects category. I should also mention the performance by the lead actor, Sharlto Copely, who played a hapless Afrikaans Government Agent.



Okay, okay, okay.  I've indulged myself long enough with this.  It all started because Mr. T and I went to see "Crazy Heart" this weekend and I started thinking about "Oscar Season".  So, I've said enough for the moment, except..... Colin Farrell gives a really suprising performance in this movie as a country singer - who knew?

What do you all think?  Any favorites?  Any disappointments?  From this year or previous years?  Is there anyone else out there besides me who looks forward to this evening of glitter and glam?

Alright, you pulled it out of me.  I want "The Hurt Locker" to win for best director because it would be the first time a female director would win that category.  Besides she's up against her ex-husband.

So What Do You Think of the Bed We Built?

Nice, huh? Well, this was one of the visions dancing around in my head as I imagined Mr. Tennis and I feverishly constructing my dream bed in our carport.

Then there was the reality of this....

And possibly this....

We know nothing good can come of that! So.......

It was a cool blustery Saturday afternoon.  We were killing time before we knew we would have to head to HD to get our supplies.  We were on our way to Best Buy when we passed a futon store that was having a big sale.  We recently gave The Maven's old bed away, moved the bed that was in The Writer's old room into her's and that left me thinking I wanted a nice futon in The Writer's room/my "office".  For visitors...

So innocently Mr. Tennis and I entered the store.  Not only did they have really great futons, but platform beds as well!!!!  He watched me from the corner of his eye as I inspected said platforms for stability and style.  He held his breath as I asked the salesperson about what these beds were made of and did they have a center support. He smiled when it looked like I was actually considering this possibility.

Now, you can call us chickens, but we prefer to think that we came to our senses.  We worked out a great deal for a futon and a platform bed.  We would still have to assemble, so we weren't getting off totally scot-free.  But we considered the cost and our new platform is probably less than what we would have ultimately put out for our PB Ripoff bed.  There was the stability of our marriage to consider as well.  Mr. T is pretty tolerant, but he has his limits and this project would have tested those.

I haven't given up on my PB dream bed.  One day when the need isn't so urgent and after I have some projects under my belt, (oh yes, I AM going to make some end tables from that wonderful blog) I will tackle "the stratton".  Until then, Mr. T and I are happy with our new platform.  It's not white - but I may fix that in time - but it didn't collapse the first night and I think it will be okay.

I know it looks stark in the above picture.  That is something I will have to work on, but there are other things to consider as well...

The Bostons think it's great!

A Very Special Birthday for a Very Special Lady

Orlando Grandma in her beautiful Panamanian dress

Since I first met her in 1979, Orlando Grandma has been welcoming, inspiring, supportive, loving, and like a second mother to me.

College graduation, UF, 1981, Orlando G-ma, Mr. Tennis, Tita and The Boston Lady

I didn't know my maternal grandparents at all except through pictures and have just a few memories of my paternal ones as they died before I was 12 and lived far away.  That's why it has been wonderful having my children's grandparents play a more significant role in their lives.  My parents lived about 2 hours away until the last three years of their lives, when they moved to Orlando. BUT, Orlando Grandma has ALWAYS been here for us.

I've always admired her pluck and determination when tackling a daunting task.  She has enormous inner strength that comes from her deep faith, something I believe she inherited from her mother, our Tita.

One thing people always notice about Orlando Grandma is her wonderful smile.  In just about all the pictures I have of her she is smiling and that's the way she goes through life, spreading good cheer and making friends wherever she goes.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Orlando Grandma.  She could tell you the exact year and place, but my guess is she was a college coed at this time and Grandpa Courtney snapped this picture of her.  This picture shows that happiness that radiates from her.

Long before The Boston Lady came into the picture, Orlando Grandma was a young mother who took great joy in raising three young boys.

Another  picture taken by Courtney.  Tony, Orlando G-ma, Kurt and Mr. Tennis in their station wagon. The perfect 1960s family!

Tony and Mr. Tennis holding newborn Kurt

The adventurous young mother from Panama was used to roughing it at times and was game for all the camping trips the young family took together.  I have listened many times over the years about how she and Courtney pulled a little trailer behind their car and traveled all over the United States with the boys.  Even when Kurt was a young baby. 

They camped in a large blue family tent with Gramps, Grandma Rose and the boys in the badlands and listened to their tent inflating and deflating with the fierce winds there.  The boys had a little section of the tent to sleep in and the adults would play cards in another part of the tent with the wind howling outside.

The infamous little trailer that could.

Okay, I admit she looks a little tired in this shot, but who wouldn't be after wrangling three squirming

boys all day on the road?

Enjoying the outdoors with her three boys.

All her "boys": Tony, Baby Kurt, Mr. Tennis and Courtney

  I always felt very fortunate because my family and Mr. Tennis' family could always get together and have a good time.  Sometimes it was at our house for Christmas, or at Gramps' lake house or at Orlando Grandma's house.  It didn't matter where we were, everyone got along well and enjoyed each other's company.  My father loved to try out his limited Spanish skills with Orlando Grandma and she always was politely delighted by his attempts.

With Grandma Hughes in College Park, summer 1989.  My mother thought the world of Orlando Grandma

She has been on hand for the births of both The Writer and The Maven.

Orlando Grandma, The Writer and Tita, December 1984

With The Maven at Florida Hospital a day after she was born, March 1989

And she has continued to be there throughout their lives to lend support whether it be at a basketball game, a band concert, school graduation or just sitting quietly listening to The Maven playing her guitar.  She always has a big hug and smile for them.

That special smile with a funny-faced Maven, summer 1989

Mother's Day at Lake Eola 1991

Giving advice to a very stiff looking Writer, Christmas-time 1998

The Boston Lady, The Maven and Orlando Grandma Homecoming 2006

Cheering on The Maven's BHS May 2007 graduation

Another UF graduation, May 2007

With The Writer, Christmas 2008

Well, we aren't the only ones who benefit from her unconditional support and love.  Her other two sons, of course are older, but still like to hang out with their MaMa:

Looks like Tony got his Mom some new earrings for her birthday!

Kurt and Orlando G-ma in the 1990s.  They like to cheer The Orlando Magic on together!

We have the Gibson Family with two more of Orlando Grandma's grandchildren. 

Eddie, Maria Victoria with Grandma and Maria, around 1997 by my calculations.  This year Victoria turns 13! And of course, she was joined by Joseph about a year after this picture was taken.

Pretty Victoria, 2009

Joe in 2009, aspiring soccer player

Believe it or not youthful Orlando Grandma is also a great-grandmother!  The Maven's and Writer's cousin, Chelsea, Orlando G-ma's first grandchild, has two children of her own:

Visiting with cousin Chelsea and her daughter, Nevaeh, in Columbia, SC, Thanksgiving time 2003. Nevaeh now has a little brother, Bryson. (Chelsea, I am sorry I don't have a picture of Bryson!)

As I have sat here writing this entry it has occurred to me that this could be an endless tribute.  I simply do not have enough pictures or space to display or mention everyone who this wonderful woman has touched in her lifetime.  That is truly a great accomplishment by her and our family is so blessed to have her in our lives.

Happy Birthday Orlando Grandma!

February 9

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother: HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHARD!

I haven't talked a lot about my side of the family yet except for my dad, in this post. (Have you guessed my latest learned blogging skill - linking?) But this month brings about an occasion to talk about my eldest brother, Richard.

This is sort of a typical Richard picture, circa 1989

My brothers were 12 and 14 when I came along so I don't have any memories of them when they were very young except for what I have gleaned from family photos.

Richard was born about two years after my parents were married.  He was named after my dad, who was named after his dad.  But Richard, my brother is not a III, nor was my dad a II. They all had different middle names therefore doing away with the III or the II.  But wouldn't it have been neat if my brother had been Richard III?  Didn't they write a play about that guy?

Richard and our pretty mother.  I'm guessing he was about 9 months old. So, Winter of 1946?

Anyway, the story goes that my parents brought home their little squirming bundle of trouble and since the country was just coming out of WWII and everyone was trying to get back on their feet, my parents did not have a lot of furniture.  My dad always liked to talk about how Richard's first diaper-change at home was done on top of their second-hand baby grand piano.  Did you remember that story, Richard?  It's been imprinted in my mind for years!! Hey, Richard's been telling stories about my babyhood for years, so I get at least one shot at him!!!

Same hat and coat.  Must be the same day, but this is of course taken with his proud father.

Finding pictures of my brother in his younger years without asking him for them was somewhat difficult, but I managed to find some amongst some pictures my mother had kept and not lost in a move.

Here he is with our father's parents, Mary and Richard (I).  I'd say he is a little over one year old here because of the warm weather dress (love those sandals Richard!)

This picture is a better one that shows Richard and our Grandma Hughes (Mary).  Richard, Mark (our brother) and I were all born very blonde.  Richard has kept the blue/grey eyes that he had as a baby, which he shared with his father.

Richard was the first grandchild born to both sets of immigrant grandparents.  How thrilled they must have all been to see the next generation begin!  Our father's parents emigrated from Scotland and to this day I can still hear them both reply "Aye" instead of "yes" to a question.  They are the grandparents I have recollections of, but very vague as they both passed away before I was 12.  They lived in New Jersey, Richard and my parents were living in West Virginia at the time he was born and my other brother, Mark was born there as well. 

Our mother's parents were from two different countries.  Her father emigrated from Sweden and her mother came from Canada.  I have no memories of them as my grandmother died when I was about one, and my grandfather not too long afterwards.

Richard was the first of three grandchildren for them.  My brother, Mark and I being their second and third.  Although I don't remember them, I have many fond memories of their eldest daugther, my mother's sister, Dot and her gregarious husband, Al.  They lived with our grandparents in their declining years and helped care for them.

Cute Richard with our mother and her father, John Anderson.  This is the only picture I have of my grandfather.  I think his Swedish heritage really showed up in his first grandson with his blue eyes and blonde hair.  Richard's middle name is John, in honor of his grandfather.

This is Richard and his grandmother, Grace Anderson, our mother's mother.  I have a small picture of her when she was a young girl with beautiful thick chestnut colored hair.

As I said, my brothers were quite a bit older than me when I was born so you can imagine what it might have been like for two adolescent boys to suddenly have a baby sister.  My mother always told me that the first thing Richard would say when he got home from school was "Where's Ann?" (yes, I realized I used my "real" name, but it would have sounded funny for him to ask where The Boston Lady was, so be it) That makes me smile to this day.  I was a lucky girl with two big brothers.

Richard with his baby sister, probably one or two months after she was born.

Two brothers valiantly trying to hold up their wobbly little sister.

Here we are in 1988 almost 30 years later. Mark, Richard, The Boston Lady (pregnant with The Maven)

These are a few of the vivid memories I have of Richard in my earlier years:

Riding on the back of his snow skiis on the slopes somewhere in Montreal, I think.

Whem we moved from Montreal to Toronto, he made me a little "nest" in the back of the station wagon for the trip.

When he was home for the holidays, I would come home from school for lunch and he would just be getting out of bed.

We visited him at school in Vermont.

He joined the U.S. Army when I was in first grade.

My parents and I visited him in Europe while he was stationed in Germany.  He learned to speak German.

One Christmas he got me a goldfish, but I walked into his room unannounced and saw it - he got mad, but I got "Goldie" anyway.

He moved to Florida before we did.  Ft Lauderdale, I thought he was really glamorous.

He went with me to Disney World in 1973 and we bought mouse ears for our parents with their names embroidered on them.

Of course, there are many more memories and stories I could share about Richard and The Boston Lady after she grew up, but I like to think back on the lucky little girl with the two big brothers who always looked out for her.

Happy Birthday Richard!

February 7

Rain Delay

I had hoped to title this entry "And so It Begins...".  But it is not to be.  We live in an older home that has a carport, our only place to construct THE bed.  Today a system rolled through:

Please enter this as picture as Evidence A

The plan was to go to HD tonight when no one else was there, get someone to help us select wood, help us cut wood, help us sand wood.  Then, we would start assembling tomorrow afternoon.  Alas, as any good Floridian knows it takes awhile for things to dry out here.  Call us cowards, call us procrastinators, call us scared.  But, we know we need the carport to be dry to work in with the wood and electrical equipment.

Please accept this as Evidence B although I know it doesn't look particularily wet at the time this picture was taken.  Weather "experts" are talking about more rain and wind. BL and Mr. T don't want to "chance" it.  This is our future afterall, cut us some slack.

So, Plan B.  Mr. T and I will go Saturday nite (who will be there then?), acquire, cut, sand said wood.  At a decent hour on Sunday ( our alternate day to get wood should said carport not dry out) we will begin to calmly, assemble said bed.  There is no hurry.  There is no rush.  The Bostons and cats are quite happy with the current arrangement.  Even we, the humans, have gotten accustomed to getting out of bed in the morning and crawling on the floor until finding a place where we can grab and bring ourselves upright.  Not a problem.

I hope to give you all good news soon.

The very frustrated, yet okay about it all, Boston Lady, out.

Something Unexpected

Tonight I am making a dinner for Jacques, Vicky, Orlando Grandma, Kurt, Mr. T and The Maven.  I thought I'd make something with a French flair in honor of Jacques.  Having seen the "Julie, Julia" movie recently it brought back a lot of memories of my mother making Beef Burgandy or more appropriately, Beouf Bourguignon.  Julia's recipe is tres difficile, so I tried to find my mother's old recipe (that's her recipe box up there).  No luck, many cake recipes, but no BB.  I think she had it memorized because it was such a favorite of my father's.

Anyway, Jacques gave me the name of an alternate french cook who had a simpler version of this delicious dish.  It is a 3-4 hour process between browning and then slowly simmering the dish.  So, The Boston Lady rolled up her sleeves about 3pm and began.

Very simple recipe to follow and I am using the casserole dish my mother always made Beouf Bourginion in for luck.  Popped it in the oven and we are now about 1 and a half hours into slow cooking mode.

I went outside for a bit to wear The Bostons out so they wouldn't be nuisances while our guests are here and then walked back into the house and into my childhood.  They say smells are powerful triggers for our memories and the familiar smell of BB cooking just brought a flood of them back to me.  I have not had this dish since my parents left their home in Dunedin in 1999.  I don't know why I never made it myself.  Intimidated, I guess.  Anyway, I had to sit down and reflect back to all the happy dinners I, my brothers, Mr. Tennis and our kids shared that my mother had cooked.  It made me miss her very much. 

But thanks to Jacques' inspiration I have made a favorite dish that fills my house with familiar smells and I thank him for that.  (Oh, I guess the glass of red wine the recipe said the cook should have from the bottle going into the dish might have helped my nostalgic feelings too.)

Bon Appetit!