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There is something delightful in making pesto and tomato sauce from scratch with your family.

Funeral

Mar. 19th, 2011 08:24 am
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I am off to Tante Mimi's funeral today; I won't be online.
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Au revoir, ma tante.

Je t'aime.

Et comme ca, tous les grandes dames sont mort.


The last of the Simard Sisters has passed on quietly this morning.
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My sister, being my sister, got us all passes to the Magic Castle over the holidays.

Sadly, I seem to have misplaced the show list, although I specifically remember Rob Zabrecky and Jonathan Pendragon, who obviously is out of jail. There was also a lovely close-up magician who did all his tricks with one hand (I think he has an injury) and had patter that reminded me of Victor Borge.

I don't recommend the dinner, as clearly the place is not designed with food first and foremost, but if you can ever swing a pass, you should definitely go.
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Forgive the Princess Bride paraphrase.

As some of you know, my mom is an artist. One of her media is book binding. One day, she took a workshop on re-purposed art, right around the time some old computers at her lab were being discarded.

The result has been a recurring theme of circuit board books, each hand bound with some piece of circuitry.

(And wow is photographing art hard.)

MomsBooks-1

MomsBooks-2

The first two are both Japanese bound watercolour paper, with a motherboard as the front cover.

MomsBooks-3

The one on the right is Japanese binding again, and I don't know the name of the other style. (It may just be "Western".) The Western has a single small circuit as a decoration, while the Japanese binding again has a large circuit board almost as the entire cover. I do believe that circuit is hand stitched, if that's an appropriate turn of phrase.

MomsBooks-4

MomsBooks-5

This last one is bound in a texture that almost looks like bark, decorated with buttons, and tucked into its own case which I believe is a re-purposed disk mount.
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"Are we supposed to guess what song it is?"

- My Mom after pointing out to me that after a while I start hammering in different bear rhythms.
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While delayed, for my mother's birthday, I made Roman cuisine. Different recipes than I did for Shira's Bacchanalia a few years ago. It was a delightful success. The cooked melons in Passum was probably the grand discovery, but everything came out exceedingly well.
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I heard my dad say this today, as we prepared to go out to get a Pizza. I asked him about if over dinner. He didn't even remember saying it.

"Oh, he says that all the time," my mom said. "He usually doesn't even notice."

And so, just like that, I found out that my father may well be the Tenth Doctor.


Of course, knowing my dad, it's probably just an unconscious reference to this Goddard film.
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The great globe light of the Castelluccis is no more.

It was in that style that I suspect was popular in the 60's and 70's - just a big round white-frosted glass globe around an incandescent bulb. My parents have had it for as long as I can remember. I suspect it predates my sister. It's been a strange alien dome for adventure people to explore. It was the light source for artistic photos my sister took in high school. It's always been the source of illumination linked to my parents' living room.

Last night, my dad, having trouble getting the TV to respond to the remote, leaned back quickly and knocked it off its pedestal, shattering it utterly.

And so now we have new lights in the living room, and some small piece of my childhood is gone.

All things pass.
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Let alone my terrible vocabulary, the proportions of the letters are all wrong. Just brutal. (I'm rather proud of how few made-up words I came up with.)
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As the scent of cooking wild mushrooms caresses every corner of the house, I thank the gods yet again that I outgrew my irrational antipathy toward fungus.

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