Crumbs, Plays, and Birthdays

Last week was kinda crummy so I didn't write anything. Crumminess is uninspiring.

However, I did have one really good thing come out of it. Much Ado About Nothing. I have a confession to make. For the last four or five years I was convinced that I hated Shakespeare. When I was ten I was given a book of Shakespearean plays as a birthday present. I read it faithfully several times a year until I lost it when I was fourteen. I didn't really care for them, but I was proving to my Excellent Mother that I was familiar with the classics and was reading something aside from fantasy or sci-fi (which she is convinced are the scourge of the libraries).

Being a ten year old, I didn't particularly like them. Actually, that isn't strong enough. I hated them. Especially A Midsummer's Night Dream. I also hated Othello, never actually finished it, though I tried many times. The only one I could abide was Much Ado About Nothing. Even that one was a bit difficult for ten year old me get through. And in successive rereads I still didn't develop a taste for Shakespeare. When I lost the book I was actually kind of glad that I didn't have to go through it anymore and I gave up Shakespeare for good.

Or so I thought.

On Monday evening last week I was a little sad and stressed out. I'd just completed a batch of bread--which I had neglected to put any sugar or salt or oil in--and it came out crunchy and flavorless. You could say it was really...crumby. Anyway, I wanted to wind down so I looked for something to watch on YouTube and heigh ho, what was in the recommendations but a rendition of Much Ado About Nothing. I didn't have anything else to do, so I sighed and hit play.

Oh my.

Oh my.

I loved it. I couldn't keep this priceless treasure to myself, so I fetched Kennedy and we watched it together. He liked it as much as I did (which surprised me) and we stayed up until after twelve watching it.

I was hooked. When I find something that I like so much I go into a phase which lasts a couple days. The first day is obsession. I think about it constantly, it fills my head pretty thoroughly. I kept going back to the computer and looking over the play again and analyzing the scenes and dialogue.

The next day I was more rational and I only rewatched my favorite scenes about ten times.

 By Wednesday I was fine. I was still interested in Much Ado About Nothing, but I left it alone. Same on Thursday.

On Friday I caved in and actually read the play. It was waaaaaaay more awesome than I remembered. Apparently ten year old me wasn't a good judge of plays.

On Saturday I searched for a new rendition, found a good one and watched it with my sisters. We liked it so well that we watched it with the rest of the family on Saturday evening. The only one who was Not Impressed was my Esteemed Father. But I don't hold it against him.

I'm  going to have to read more Shakespeare.




My brother Rego had his birthday this week. Krisbie made the cake and it was excellent, but a little sweet because my Esteemed Father snuck into the kitchen after Krisbie had frosted it and put an extra container of frosting on it. (He insists that cake is simply the vehicle of the frosting, being a tasty and convenient way to convey it to one's mouth. But, should cake be unavailable, a spoon will do just as well. Cutting out the middleman and whatnot.)

Rego got a lot of cool presents but my personal  favorite was Mum's present to  him. Rego loves birdwatching. He takes a lot of pictures of the birds that  visit his feeders. He has a lot of really stunning ones, but everybody's favorite is one of a cardinal in midflight against a background of snowy trees. My Excellent Mother got it professionally printed for him to hang somewhere conspicuous.

There, that's my update. Here  are some pictures I took on my stroll today. The whole world is melting and I think it's beautiful (in a drab, grey-brown sort of way).

 (This is  what's left of the bridge at Twelve Acre Wood.  Suffice it to say that we do not use it. Ever.)