Now Playing: Spring
Topic: Weather
"Spring has sprung
The grass is riz;
I wonder where
The flowers is."

I think I got that out of a Readers' Digest sometime back before the Flood!

Spring has come to Central Texas. It's time to mow, the red wasps are moving back into their spot right outside the back door, mold is thick in the air...

Those ridiculous trees that get flowers before they get leaves are poofing out in pink, purple and white. I am tempted to put the houseplants back out, but, after so many years, I know better! There will be one more freeze. There always is. Usually, it comes two days after I haul all the damn plants out of the bathtub and drag them to the front porch.

I have a lovely oval bathtub, with jets. Too bad I haven't been in it since November!

Spring always feels vaguely ominous to me, because the heat and humidity are not far behind. I was born and bred in England, and moved to western Canada when I was a child. My skin was not designed for this climate. I am way too young for "liver spots," but have quite a collection of them. I spend my summers either cowering in the air conditioning, or dodging from shade patch to shade patch. And eagerly anticipating Autumn.

Mood:  down
Now Playing: The End of La Mancha
Well, the show is over, and the costumes are all heaped in the back of my car, waiting for the rain to stop.

The play was much better than I expected it to be. I don't mean to cast any aspersions on the director; I've known him several years, and he is very talented--I just could not see how The Man of La Mancha could possibly be produced on our tiny stage! It was done, and done well. The performance had passion, artistry and a whole lot of class. I saw the last performance. It was very obvious that the actors were enjoying it, and, when the elan is still there for the last show, it's a sure bet that everyone had fun. Some of the voices were not up to professional quality, but the theater is so small that you really don't have to be hugely loud.

Miss "Aldonza" has a wonderful voice. I was quite happy to bury the hatchet. Particularly as she used part of the costume I designed. She stuck with her giraffe-print skirt and shiny spandex corset, neither of which looked good. Her bodice and boots, which she also supplied, were excellent.

I think it's one of the best shows Sam Bass Community Theatre has ever done!

Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: Oscar Gowns--What were they thinking?
Topic: clothing
You'd think that, with the budgets these Hollywood women have to work with, they could come up with something flattering. Are they so blind that they can't look in a mirror and say, "This looks like SHIT?"

Major across-the-board no-no's: horizontal ruffles, pale, anemic colours, and huge trains. I can't give examples of who was wearing what, because I'm too old to be familiar with this crop of Divas.

I did see one woman wearing long gloves with her strapless dress. Elegant. When did gloves disappear from women's formal wear? Maybe when odd styles came "in," like one I saw last night; the gown had one long sleeve. I guess, given the option of wearing one or none, I would choose none. The offending gown was at least two sizes too big for its wearer, and a most insipid colour of pink.

Speaking of which, what's with all the pink?

Somebody had their gown built by somebody who usually does skating costumes--big flesh-coloured panel in the front, joining two sequined bands. Has your cleavage gone south, sweetie, or were you afraid your mom would be offended?

Sidney Lumet's wife looked lovely, when they showed her sitting in the box. I would have liked to see her on the carpet.

And Barbra...honey...just because you've put on a LOT of weight, doesn't mean you HAVE to hire Omar the Tentmaker! Sheesh! There must have been upwards of 10 yards in that dress! The collar-like necklace draws attention to your increased girth. And blonde hair with a lavender dress just makes you look...well...old.

A few rules:

Make sure it fits. I saw several that were too big, and many that were too small.

Don't wear a gown that isn't comfortable. Too many women were pulling at their oh-so-fashionable strapless, boned bodices. Those look good only if you have a perfectly proportioned figure. If your upper deck is small, your lower looks too large. If your ta-ta's are really bodacious, your gown better have a bustle!

Some of you ladies have a bit too much on the thighs to wear clingy gowns.

Gold lame is not a good choice for an extremely well-endowed woman, especially if it's a halter dress.

Do not wear anything made of satin that is gathered horizontally. Especially pink satin.

Don't wear more jewels than Elizabeth I. Earrings do not need to brush your shoulders. And don't wear those things that look as if you bought them at the auto parts store. You know the ones--those little chandeliers that make your car smell...better.

Skip the 6-foot train.

Comb out your hair. Many women looked as if they either forgot to do their hair at all, or didn't have time to comb out the curls. Including Oprah, whose gown was wonderful.

I know it's hard to get someone to do your make-up, but the guy from the funeral parlour shouldn't be an option.

Just because your tits cost a fortune doesn't mean you have to carry them around on a tray.

Rarely do I ever see anyone, anywhere, who looks "perfect." I saw nobody last night who fits that description.

God help me, if I ever have to attend so formal an occasion! I would wear something vintage, that FIT (hello), was simple, and, above all, comfortable. I would not have to lift it to walk, or pull on it to make sure I wasn't falling out of it.

Now Playing: Murder
Topic: rants
Yet another monster has decided that killing a woman in his life is an effective way of getting out of a relationship. This monster compounded the horror by killing her 7-year-old son and 7-month fetus.

I've heard rumours that, even among cats, it happens that the male cat devours the kittens. In a lifetime of keeping cats, I have never personally witnessed this. Although a visiting dachshund once wiped out an entire litter, in the mistaken assumption that they were rats.

To call Stephen Dale Barbee a rat is to be unkind to rats. We seem to be raising a generation of men who think their own desires are the most important thing in the world. More important than the lives of a pregnant woman and a 7-year-old child. I think the two main factors in raising men like this are overindulgence and enablement. Applying a bit of poverty and discipline in early life might go a long way toward solving the problem for future generations. Just because you can afford to buy your kids the latest in gadgets and toys doesn't mean you HAVE to do it. Training them to earn things better prepares them for adult life. And, very important; don't let them lie to you. When they're tiny, it's easy to spot. Nip it then.

For a detailed discussion of this latest murder, please visit www.misfitting.com

Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: My Favourite Christmas
Topic: Weather
My senior year in high school, I had a boyfriend. His name was Bert Bessembinders, and he up and moved to Utah in October. Bummer! Come Christmas, I was supposed to take the bus from Vancouver Island to Logan, Utah, to spend Christmas with his family. I was all excited to be taking such a trip on my own, let alone seeing Bert again.

Dec 23 arrived, and with it, a blizzard. The bus was cancelled, and, therefore, my trip. I was devastated! All the local holiday parties had been planned without me. Christmas Eve promised to be a dismal evening, spent alone. My parents even had a party to go to!

My best friend took me with her to a nice party. The hostess was one of our little crowd of non-achievers, and the whole gang was there. I hadn't wanted to go, figuring everyone would be paired off except me. As any teen can tell you, that is a fate to be avoided at all cost!

We had the living room for the party, Betty Jean's parents being banished to the rec room, and munchies and hot chocolate abounded. Yes, folks, we were the kids who didn't drink and have semi-public sex at every available opportunity! It was warm in there, the lights were dim, and we were listening to Bobby Vinton and the Beatles. Suddenly, somebody came up with a suggestion: "Let's go carolling!"

The snow had stopped by then, and the night was crisp, clear and frosty. This was before towns had their "Christmas Family Night," with lines for Santa and whatnot cluttering up the town square. Carolling happened. It wasn't organized, promoted, advertised or rewarded. Ok, I admit we stopped the longest at houses that looked as if there was a party going on, because thence cometh cookies and cocoa. But, for the most part, we just walked around the small town, singing our hearts out and giggling in the frosty air.

It has remained one of my favourite Christmases ever!

Now Playing: The Interview Game
Lisa (check out "The Lisa Life")has posted me a list of questions.

Here are the answers.

1) Which cartoon character is most like you?

I'm not really up to date on modern cartoons. I usually feel like the teacher in a "Peanuts" special--nobody ever listens to me!

2) George Bush is coming to your house for dinner. What would you serve him, and what would you ask him? Would you do the white glove cleaning?

I'd serve my best poverty meal. I'd make a magnificent batch of beans and cornbread. Just to put him in touch with the common people. Regarding the war in Iraq, I'd have to ask, "What were you thinking!?" I would have to do some serious housecleaning--the Secret Service would be finding assassins in the dust bunnies!

3) What is the last book you read, and how did you like it? Explain.

I'm not quite finished it yet, but it is "Hadrian's Wall," by William Dietrich. It's about the end of Roman domination in Britain. It puts the events in that far corner of the Empire in context with what was going on in the Empire as a whole. It also has some interesting social comments about the status of women and slaves. I can learn more about history from a well-researched historical novel than I can from the dry facts.

4) Shower or bath?

Shower. I never have time for a bath any more!

5) You have a round trip, all-expenses-paid trip to anywhere in the world. Where are you going? Explain.

I'm going to the British Isles, and Ireland. I want to soak up the legends of my ancestors. And take a whiskey tour of Scotland. Every castle, stone circle, sacred well and ley line I can find will be explored, with a few stately homes thrown in. I want to go to Hastings, and Culloden. I want to see Newgrange, and the Giants' Causeway.

I'm supposed to ask if anyone reading this wants to play. If so, please leave a comment indicating same. As my blog contains nothing that will draw people to it, I'm pretty sure I won't have a lot of takers, but, if you want to play, let me know!

Winter on Vancouver Island
Mood:  accident prone
Now Playing: Uphill Both Ways, Barefoot in the Snow
Topic: Weather
My trek to school, as a kid, was usually not too bad. I went about 1/3 of a mile down a logging road, cut behind the Catholic church and cemetery, and came out on the school driveway. It was pleasant through the woods, and only slightly spooky behind the church. Of course, weather was a factor.

One day, my mother called the school to have them make sure I brought home my galoshes, which had been left for months. Galoshes are tricky things, intended to pull on over one's shoes. However, they have very limited stretch, and refused to go on over my new school Oxfords. As Oxfords have laces, and galoshes don't, I elected to walk home with my shoes tied to my book bag, and my galoshes on my sock-feet.

A snowstorm blew in. By the time the offending articles had been found and my shoes secured, it was cold out, and a heavy, wet snow was falling. That trip home was a nightmare! My feet were numb, I was soaked through and chilled, my woolen mittens were stiff, and my bare knees were blue. I remember wondering why my mother didn't come down to meet me. She usually did when I was late. I pictured her rescuing me with a blanket, and a thermos of hot chocolate. I was crying, and calling for her like a four-year-old trapped in a bad dream. My voice was lost in the wind, snow, and woods. The final stretch was up a very steep hill, and I sat at the bottom for a while, not sure I could make it up by myself. Darkness was falling by then, and the winter twilight almost over. Eventually, the sight of the house lights at the top of the hill roused my to finish my plodding journey.

There was Mom, acting as if there were nothing unusual about that day's trip home from school.

Mood:  lyrical
Now Playing: More about Round Rock
Topic: Round Rock
Round Rock started a long time ago. The Rock marks a good place to ford Brushy Creek, which means that indigenous people knew of it thousands of years ago. Remains have been found just a few miles away that prove the area was inhabited 8000 years ago. Googling "Leanderthal Woman" will find you more information than I have room for here.

The trail leading across the ford was known as The Shawnee Trail, until some guy named Chisholm connected the northern end of it to another, way up in Kansas, and thus gave his name to the whole thing.

In the days before Texas Independence, there was a small group of settlers at the site of the rock. They were advised to move east of the Brazos River during the war, and most complied. One person, by the name of Kenney, had built himself a little fort, and decided to ride out the war on his own turf. This fort became the nucleus of the town, which grew to include a stagecoach inn, a post office, and several other lovely stone buildings.

When the railroad came through, there was fierce competition among the several small towns in the area. The final route passed a mile or so to the south of Round Rock. Quite naturally, a second town grew up around the train depot, known as New Town. Old Town began to decline. Eventually, the Post Office moved to New Town, taking the name with it.

It was the death of Sam Bass during a failed attempt on the local bank, that put our little town on the map. 1878 was the year. Sam Bass, at 27, was a handsome narcissist, who thought the world owed him a living. He had been a horse trainer in Tennessee until he embarked on a spree of horse theft and bank robbery that eventually led him and his gang to Round Rock. There was a price on his head by then, and one of his cohorts sold him out to the local constabulary. The result was a shoot-out on Main Street which left a deputy dead and Sam mortally wounded. He was buried in the local cemetery. His stone has had to be replaced, and the grave, fenced, because visitors chipped so many bits off it for souvenirs. I had never heard of him until I moved here, but, in his day, he was as notorious as John Hardin or Billy the Kid.

Mood:  blue
Now Playing: Round Rock, TX
Topic: Round Rock
When I moved to Round Rock in 1977, there were approximately 10,000, certainly under 12,000 people. There was a blinkin' light at the corner of Mays and Main, but not much reason to have a traffic light anywhere else, since there was no traffic.

Never having stayed anywhere more than two years in my entire adult life, I thought it would remain that way. There was no McDonald's, no smog, and no crime. I think the killing of Sam Bass in 1878 put the fear of God into the population for a century.

It was like Norman Rockwell, only hotter!

There were two drugstores across Main Street from each other. Gus's Drugs had an upscale, '50's or '60's interior. Quick Pharmacy was still an old-fashioned drugstore with a soda fountain presided over by Marge Quick, who made the best chocolate malts I ever had.

On my first ever trip to Round Rock, I came with my (ex)husband and baby. I was just going to look around while he had a job interview at City Hall. The library was right next to the City Hall building, so I took Baby Chandra in there to 'splore. The "Library Ladies," as I collectively called them, were absolutely wonderful! A fount of information about the town, its schools, its government, and which was the best laundromat. I had never been so thoroughly welcomed by strangers! When (Ex) came out of City Hall with the job, I couldn't have been happier.

At the time, we were living in Lago Vista, a long drive for (Ex), with the sun in his eyes both ways. We decided to move to Round Rock. We found a little house in town, for $100/month. Our house was within walking distance of downtown, with its library, chocolate malts, laundromat, grocery store, feed store, post office, and other points of interest. I was content!

Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Prima Donna Revisited
Topic: rants
Now, I am PISSED. Little Miss Aldonza went out and got her own costume. She's not the only one in the cast who has done that, but the other actor brought in something that is perfect. He looks entirely in keeping with the rest of the show. SHE, on the other hand, is wearing a white shift, a leather bustier, and a rust-coloured skirt with a print of black blotches that looks suspiciously like abstract leopard print. And the director is going to allow it because it's the "path of least resistance." He actually had the gall to say that to me!

Last night, while the bitch was refusing to look at what I had been labouring over for three hours, she informed me that the velcro had come loose on her petticoat. I told her to see the stage manager for a sewing kit and fix it herself!

We are an all-volunteer theatre. No paid staff, dressers, janitors, or ladies' maids. People who work with us have to accept that.