PEARLS & AMBER

HILARY & CHRISTINA

I can't help it.  I just can't.

Were these two women separated at birth?

Well, of course not.  One's Argentinian, and the other is  Scorpio...I mean American.

What they are, are two women who are senators, whose husbands are (Kirchner) or were (Clinton) president of their countries.  They started off as wives, I mean lawyers.  They are mothers, which is a good thing because that means there is somebody out there who isn't afraid to dish out the harsh truth to them.

And they BOTH WANT TO BE PRESIDENT...and actually, today, it looks like Christina has pulled this feat off.

I mean, they could be sitting at home...or in Paris...having a good time. Having their pedicures and reading good books, and planning for the holidays coming up, and already buying Christmas ornaments before Halloween, because they just melt at Christmas ornaments, they love them that much.

They could find the sheer amount of world affairs just too much of a good thing, and simply decide to decide between maybe two or three world affairs over which to have nervous breakdowns.  But no, as President of their countries they actually have to have nervous breakdowns over every single world affair there is.

There are a lot of world affairs.

The thought of two more women finally becoming presidents of their countries is a good thing.  I just know it, right?  Even though these women are nothing like the women I know and trust.

BABYBOOMERS FOREVER

I can still see it.  Even though it was a stormy night in Schenectady, New York, and I was but two seconds old, I can still see it.

Adoring faces.  Adoring me and my kind.  BABY BOOMERS.

Look at that.  Two seconds old and already screaming.  For my rights.  For my right to a good time.  For my right to use the world, hug the world, save the world. 

Two seconds old and baby boomers had it all, knew it all, voiced it all.

Then somewhere along the line our own children grew up and informed us we are now what is referred to as AGING BABY BOOMERS.

Just because I turned my back on things for a few years?  I take umbrage.

But no.  Not to worry.  Baby boomers are fighting back, even though our children raise their eyes to heaven.  I just read all about it in a column by Ellen Goodman.  She assures me that me and my kind are still on top of the heap.  We are still oh so fabulous--

As we now plow our way through middle age...first by inventing some other soubriquet--

According to authorities we have the chance to invent another stage of life.  We have a chance to have what is now called an encore career.  Sixty is not the new forty, see.  Sixty is the new sixty.  So there, all you wallowing people who are not lucky enough to be baby boomers.

If we are liberated from ambition, says Marc Freedman, the head of Civic Ventures (a think tank...aren't think tanks one of the finer inventions of a thought provoking life?), we can find ourselves in a position like Gore.  Has-been to saint.

I like that.

Also, according to this column, it is said that baby boomers have the classic pattern of returning to an earlier dream unclouded by the compromises of midlife.

All good.  All good.

I will not take umbrage with the phrase AGING BABY BOOMER any longer.

Because there are zillions of us.  We may need light in the dark, but, so, okay, inch over to the fast lane, and turn on those lights.

MOTHER NATURE GRATEFULLY ACCEPTS HELP

To  protect the eggs of endangered birds from their natural prey, biologists have long come out and swiped eggs from the nests and replaced them with fake ones.  The mother birds do not take to this kindly.  But, not to worry.  When the egg is ready to hatch, it's slipped back underneath the mother.

Recently the fake eggs have been given double duty.  They have become electronic devices capable of sending all kinds of information back to the biologists in the lab.  This information is used to help create more natural environments for the eggs, thus ensuring a better success rate for the survival of so many endangered species, like the Caribbean flamingo.

They have found out, for instance, that the mother birds turn the eggs often.  They have found out that the mothers move on and off the eggs, and the temperature around the eggs can drop twenty degrees. They've found the nests are both cooler and dryer than they thought--

(I always liked to keep my babies rooms cool and dry.  I'm feeling at one with the birds....)

The work of scientists and biologists has always astounded me.  Will continue to amaze, and indeed, awe me.

But oh, were you annoying in school.  Those unbelievable science projects, those test grades, that gleam in your eye during chemistry labs--

It didn't matter you weren't good in sports, now did it.

THE BRASSIERE IS ONE HUNDRED

The bra as we know it, is one hundred years old, and I am here to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 

I don't know what I would have done without all of you, those of you who have belonged to me throughout the years, starting from the age of twelve, each and every one of you my most favorite, my most worn, my most cherished brassiere.

I just read that there is a bra out there that takes twenty minutes to make.  The person who found this out, a manager of a company who makes these bras, was amazed to find they took that long to make. 

Twenty minutes to make a whole live bra, the very bra that clings to our breasts, providing safety and warmth to the accouterments of our body that might otherwise flap in the wind, fall down to the navel, or even, inadvertently get stuck in a door?  I would think such a blessed gizmo as this would take hours, weeks, years to create.

Of course the world was created in a week, but still--

These are our brassieres we're talking about.

I found out also, that our darling bras, always so full of whimsy and fun, and always up for being torn off at just the right moment by an appreciative other party, have a new favorite color. 

PETUNIA.  This is a color just too fabulous to be ignored.  Way back when, they simply came in black, ecru, white and lace (when lace had to count as a color).  Apparently orange and berry red are also topping the list of our ever present companions, but I don't see how, when they dance next to petunia. 

Petunia has definitely won my heart.

It seems these are excellent times for our bras.  In addition to all the fun new colors, coming up are technologically innovative possibilities like the creation of fabrics that will release curative essences while being worn.  I can feel the aloe and sage now, and I feel so much better for it.  

Also, the possibility of fabrics that could release cosmetic essences, you know, like a lifting essence, are being looked into.  I think a bit of blush to add to the rosiness of our lovely breasts at just the right moment is a good cosmetic essence to look into, but I would expect they have already thought of that.

And finally, much to my relief, there's been a revival of the guipure inlay... I have really really missed the guipure inlay, and will sleep so much more soundly when it returns.

Happy birthday, dear friends.

CROSSWORD PUZZLE AND COZY

The picture here is the epitome of cozy. 

It was also the answer to a New York Times crossword clue.  The clue was 'snug'.

I didn't come up with the answer on my own.  In spite of the fact 'cozy' and 'snug' are two of my favorite ways to be.

Such simple words for such magnificent frames of mind, physical comfort, feelings of love and being loved.

The dog's name is Kiona, and that is her chair.

That is it was her chair.  She has now moved to Oregon where she is attending law school vicariously through her owner, and discovering that Oregon weather feels so much better than does Florida's--

Kiona used to live in Florida.  Whoever heard of a Siberian Husky being okay with living in Florida--

But such were the circumstances Kiona did live in Florida.  Indeed she was born there.

Well, she's out now, and no doubt being offered many new cozy moments in Oregon, especially as it rains a lot there, and as anyone familiar with rainy weather knows, the amount of opportunities to create coziness and snugness are endless.

And I happen to know for a fact that Kiona has her own cozy bed in every room in her new home.  I happen to know her Florida chair is being shipped.  And I happen to know she covets the new couch anyway.

The MEANING OF HEATHCLIFF

I simply had no idea.  None whatsoever.

I'm not sure if I should hang my head in shame.  Or brag.

Until going to see a fairly new ballet of Wuthering Heights, the other night, it turns out I had no idea what the novel was actually about.

The ballet was beautiful, but all the swooning, all the fighting, all the crawling on the floor (I picture dust and dirt all over the costumes, and it hurts). I couldn't for the life of me keep track of who was who...I didn't actually try, which was just as well, because I couldn't have been more wrong in what I thought the story was about. 

I went home and read the Wikipedia entry for WUTHERING HEIGHTS.  And I found out it is--

A POTBOILER.

I didn't know there were two Cathys.  I didn't know Heathcliff was the bad guy.  I was shocked to find Heathcliff was a lowbrow bully, in fact, with resentments galore.  What kind of hero is that?  Look at Olivier in the picture.  No wonder I've been confused.

I thought Heathcliff and Cathy were doomed lovers, for some reason or other.  I thought they were a kind of Romeo and Juliet, several hundred years later.

I thought Heathcliff was a sweetheart.  I thought Cathy was, well, not spoiled and wild and a little touched in the head...or something.

And then I thought for sure that Heathcliff would marry the second Cathy, once I found out there was a second Cathy, but no.  At least, though, Cathy's love for Hareton finally helped Heathcliff find goodness in his heart....

There were all kinds of other characters.  Heathcliff's wife, Cathy's husband, the offspring of each.  Oh, and Cathy's brother and his child whom Heathcliff treated shabbily the minute he got his hands on him.  He did this as payback for how Cathy's brother had treated him way back when he was the foster kid, favored by the father over the brother, and Cathy, the first one, loved both of them, which was before she fell in love with and married Edgar--

Somehow I see Alexa Harrington....the re-incarnated Heathcliff? 

Somehow I see Audrey Hepburn...I see Lassie.  Surely there's a spot for Lassie.