An Instant Classic

Last week I finally got to watch The King's Speech, which won last year's Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Director, and Best Original Screenplay.  I hesitated about reviewing it because I may have been the last person in America who hadn't already seen the film, but I enjoyed it so much I can't resist raving about it.

As you probably know, the movie is the story of George VI's struggle to overcome his speech impediment, culminating in his live radio broadcast to the people of Great Britain announcing the start of the Second World War.  Hearing this summary of the film I had assumed that he took the lessons specifically for the purpose of readying himself for this important speech, but in fact he had started them years earlier while still the Duke of York.  Even then he had been expected to speak in public as one of the representatives of his father, George V, and every attempt plunged him deeper into anger and depression.

The speech instructor is played by Geoffrey Rush, one of England's great character actors (probably best known as Captain Barbossa in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies) who is also one of the film's executive producers.  I would have expected him to walk away with the movie, and he does do a marvelous job, but Colin Firth more than holds his own as the royal stammerer.  He is completely believable as the shy, tongue-tied Duke with hidden reserves of anger and strength.

The rest of the cast is also wonderful, particularly Helena Bonham Carter as the Duke's wife Elizabeth and Derek Jacobi as the Archbishop.  The two little girls who play Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret are gravely adorable, especially when giving the royal wave alongside their parents.  The costumes and sets are terrific, too; I loved the seedy Harley Street office-cum-apartment where Lionel Logue, the speech therapist, lives and works, and the catty portrayal of Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson is amusing and, if true, very enlightening.  If you somehow missed The King's Speech when it was making the rounds of the theaters, rent it now; you won't regret it.

Hear the actual speech by George VI: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAhFW_auT20

Mainlining Fashion

Last week I finally gave up and hooked up the cable box and the TV.  I still have a lot of other equipment that's lying in the bottom of the entertainment center with its loose wires waving pathetically in the air, but at least I'm no longer cut off from TCM, Masterpiece Mystery, and my guilty pleasures, What Not to Wear and How Do I Look?  If you've never seen either show, their premise is that some hopelessly unfashionable (usually female) person is ambushed and made over by professional stylists.

Although I suppose I'd be mortified if my friends and family actually turned me in to the fashion police, I can't help fantasizing about someone offering me a free trip to New York or LA, a new wardrobe, and a fabulous makeover; I think I could manage to overcome the initial embarrassment after receiving The Full Treatment.  Well, maybe I'd be scarred for life by the sight of my rear end in the 360 degree mirror, but at least I'd emerge from the experience with better camouflage for all my lumps and bumps.

Since I'm unlikely to be rescued from fashion failure by Stacy and Clinton or Jeannie Mai in the flesh, I do try to benefit from their electronically delivered advice.  Over the past few years I've stopped wearing baggy giveaway T-shirts unless I'm refinishing furniture or painting walls.  Since I can't find pants that fit off the rack, I found a tailor who can alter them appropriately.  I've even made my makeup brighter to counteract my fading tan.  I still need a personal visit from Ted Gibson to magically improve my hair, but maybe if I keep watching the shows I will eventually see a style that's right for me and that a local stylist can replicate.

I must admit, though, that I don't want to invest too much money in a new and improved look.  If I manage to lift my look completely out of schlumpiness all by myself, I'll never get that professional fashion ambush.

"The finest clothing made is a person's skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this." ~Mark Twain

A New Low in Cat Pampering

Because this is Arizona and the climate is very dry, I try to drink a lot of water every day.  I even take a glass of water to bed with me in case I get thirsty during the night.  (The glass sits on the nightstand, of course; it doesn't actually join me under the covers.)

While Rusty and I were staying with my parents, she apparently noticed this phenomenon for the first time and decided to help herself to a drink.  She hopped up on the bed, strolled over to the nightstand, and stuck her snout into my glass.  At first I tried to shoo her away when she did this, but she doesn't really drink enough water, so I finally started putting two glasses on the nightstand every night - a plastic tumbler with a cover and a straw for me, and a short wide glass for Rusty.

So now we're in our new house and I've been using a styrofoam cup for Rusty's nightcap, but I leave the glass there all day for her, too, and it looked pretty scruffy.  I scouted around the house for another short fat glass that I don't normally use, and there it was - an orphaned highball glass that had originally been Tom's.  Its partner broke several years ago while being washed and I never replaced it.

Voila: I now have one of the few cats in the entire world - if not the only one - with a Waterford crystal highball glass for a water dish.  (No spoiled cats in this house, oh, no...)

"I tell my wife that you can't spoil a cat. That's the way they are supposed to be treated and anything less is unacceptable." ~Robert Megee

Armed and Ready to Dice

I have some important milestones coming up over the next couple of weeks.  I will have owned my house for a month.  I will be trying to ignore another birthday.  And I will have been blogging for an entire year (didn't think I could do it, did you?).

To celebrate, I've been buying gifts for myself and the house.  Most of them have been little things like a tumbler to replace the one someone dropped and broke and a spoon rest to keep the cooking surface of my smooth-top range clean.  A few have been bigger - a second-hand lateral file for my business records and a dishwasher (this house didn't have one) that was on final clearance because it was a discontinued model.  A few days ago, though, I bought myself an expensive present at full price, something I almost never do; it's a beautiful set of Wusthof kitchen knives with a sharpener and a wood block.

I've never owned really good knives before and I can already see that I need to be retrained.  "Razor sharp" appears to be an understatement; if I continue to chop, slice, and dice with my usual vigor, I could easily amputate part (or all) of an important finger.  Yes, I keep my fingers bent under when I'm holding food with them, but the chef's knife in this set could probably take off an entire knuckle without half trying.  Time to sign up for the Basic Knife Skills class at the local Sur la Table.

On the other hand: Barry was always trying to convince me that I needed a large shotgun for personal defense when he wasn't around, but with these knives in my kitchen, I have all the deadly weapons that I'll ever need.

"At the root of many a woman's failure to become a great cook lies her failure to develop a workmanlike regard for knives. " ~Robert Farrar Capon

In Praise of Straw

Have you ever moved into a new home and found relics left by the previous owners?  Over the years I've seen everything from cleaning and gardening equipment to a sofa sleeper, old clothing and bath soap abandoned in the rush to vacate the premises.  The previous owners here left behind a coffee table, a tea cart, and, yes, a sizable stash of cleaning products, including an authentic straw broom.

I can remember my mother using a straw broom when I was a small child (for that reason it's the type of broom I grew up thinking witches ride), but she switched to synthetics early on.  I don't recall ever owning a real straw broom myself; I assumed because the straws were uneven to start with and more liable to break than synthetic bristles that it would be more likely to leave dirt behind and wear out more quickly.  For a while I even gave up brooms entirely in favor of a Swiffer.

Yesterday, though, I grabbed the left-behind straw broom more or less at random and used it to sweep the tiled bathroom, hallway, and kitchen, and I was amazed at how effective it was.  It removed dust from the corners better than either a Swiffer or a synthetic broom, it didn't have any static issues, and the sweeping actually took less time than usual.  I believe I'm going to hang on to it and put my old synthetic broom out in the garage sale pile.

I guess sometimes progress isn't.

"A new broom sweeps clean, but the old broom knows the corners.” ~Irish Saying