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Degree of Cost

Susie of boygirlparty has it right. I love her idea about taking at least one overnight trip per month. It certainly helps my sanity, though not my pocketbook. But which is more important? It’s a balancing act. Thankfully for me just staying overnight at the boyfriend’s place feels like a vacation…even if it’s really within walking distance. Probably because it happens so rarely. Thursday nights were a treat over the summer, when my son stayed over at camp. But the boyfriend and I still have some adult time penciled in now and again. Earlier this month we had a lovely getaway, staying in a B&B up North. Next month we’ll be on our mini road trip through Wisconsin & Illinois. And some day I’d love to stay in one of the Hotel Fox artist-decorated rooms (a girl can dream). But I also enjoy mother/son trips with the boy. If only I had the resources to do it all!

Speaking of trips, I had a fantastic time at ATP NY but it seems like the event has greatly improved over the last two years (the year I went was the inaugural/trial run). Check out “All Tomorrow’s Parties Criterion Collection Poster Art Revealed

This past weekend saw the All Tomorrow’s Parties music and film festival head up to Monticello, New York. Criterion alum, Jim Jarmusch, curated the music for the festival, which saw the likes of Sonic Youth, Iggy and the Stooges, and Explosions In The Sky take the various stages. If you had some down time between bands, you could spend some time watching 22 films that Criterion brought with them for the festival.”

In the same vein, here’s Scott C’s take on Stand By Me. “You guys wanna see a dead body?” And also movie-related, The Comet Song from the movie Moomins and the Comet Chase is composed and performed by Björk (lyrics by Sjón).

While reading aloud the other night the boy paused to note that the word “says” is not pronounced the way it looks. Welcome to the wild world of English! I haven’t tried to tell him about The Great Vowel Shift yet. One friend pointed this out: /sɛz/ Old English, Germanic in origin. From ’secgan,’ /seʤɑn/ “to declare.” Oh the funhouse of morphology and phonology indeed!

The boy made another sage observation recently. After watching just a few minutes of the dreadful Pink Panther remake (via Netflix Instant) he pointed to Steve Martin and said, with obvious disgust, he is not Clouseau. Then he stopped the movie, removed it from the queue and declared “I am only watching the originals.” Wise boy.

I love coming home.

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