"When Ghosts and Goblins by the score, Ring the bell on your front door, you'd better not be stingy or Your nightmares will come true."*

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday, and the day after Halloween is always a come down, much like the sugar crash you have after binging on your horde of assorted chocolate bars, gummies, and lollipops. (Growing up, we had a “post-collection” tradition of dumping out all of the candy on the kitchen table, sorting through our loot, and then trading each other for our favorites. Brother B always ended up getting more than he gave; he was a shrewd negotiator.)

I was sorry to hear this Halloween season that there is a movement out there trying to get Halloween changed from October 31 to the Saturday before October 31. My response to that is: WEAK! Now, the costumes are fun, but the things that really make Halloween great are 1. candy and 2. spooky, and part of the spooky includes running around your neighborhood after dark on a school night when you normally would be at home.

Kids are already “trick or treating” in highly adult supervised environments from the trunks of cars in church or school parking lots; where is the challenge in that? Part of the fun of Halloween for me was the risk. You’d go up to someone’s door (you may know them, know them slightly,  or you may not know them at all depending on how far you traveled while still technically being in “your neighborhood”), ring the bell, and then wait and see. They may open the door; they may not. And you had no idea what they were going to give you for candy. But you’d better yell that “TRICK OR TREAT” as loud as you could to earn that Snickers bar or Reese’s pieces. My dad tells stories from growing up that trick or treating meant going INTO neighbors’ houses and having them admire your costume and “won’t you have a homemade cookie?” before getting their candy and moving on to the next house where the same thing happened all over again. With trunk or treats, everyone who shows up gets a candy whether they even say “trick or treat” or not. AND whether they say “thank you” or not, which is a massive pet peeve of mine. [And don’t get me started on the older middle school/freshmen in high school teens who think that some black on their faces and a hooded sweatshirt counts as a costume because IT DOESN’T. (You don’t have to have a homemade costume, but at least make an effort.)]

This year I went trick or treating with Sister K's family; her two boys were the Hulk and Superman. While we were out, she had left a bowl of candy on her front steps, and we returned to find it virtually untouched. No one else came after we got back relative early (7:15ish). This morning at work several people were talking about how they didn’t get any trick or treaters at all last night, despite the relatively warm temperatures (mid-60s). I wondered aloud if maybe parents were just ready to be done with neighborhood trick or treating after all the activities at schools, the trunk or treats, safe space trick or treating, and Halloween parties and other events put on by communities in an attempt to make Halloween safe for kids. Which seems really controlling and disappointing to me when I compare it to all the fun and freedom I had on Halloween growing up in the 70s and 80s. I don’t have kids so I don’t know firsthand about the fear and concern that parents have sending their kids off to trick or treat by themselves in the neighborhood, but I do think that a there has got to be a corollary with how well we know and trust our neighbors. (An aside: Sister K and her husband know ALL of their neighbors, and their neighbors know their kids. Sister B knows a couple of her neighbors, but they have LOADS of kids in that neighborhood and kids are so good at bringing people together. I have met all but one of my neighbors.)

Last night, one of Sister K’s neighbors related the following anecdote. A friend of hers who lives in Dallas can expect as many as 4,000 trick or treaters on Halloween night; they load up the whole dining room table with candy to prepare. The kids come in on buses. That is the complete opposite of what happened here last night. Can’t we meet somewhere in the middle? Maybe this is just nostalgia, but wouldn’t it be nice if Halloween could go back to the way I remember it: herds of neighborhood kids, prowling for candy, sharing with each other which houses had the good stuff (our parents always had full size chocolate bars), and then heading home: cold, sugar coated, and happy.

*Walt Disney's Trick or Treat

"OMG POLDARK NO ONE TOLD ME"*

So the Fourth of July is kind of a downer for me; as an Anglophile, I daydream about what it would be like if the colonies were a part of the Commonwealth, like Canada.  (JUST KIDDING - sort of. Since this year, less on the kidding, more on the wishing.) But for me, the 4th has never lived up to the hype surrounding the holiday. I can't really sum up what's missing, but it's always been anticlimactic for me, especially now that I don't live in Boston anymore.

The most hilarious part of that holiday was receiving the above text message from my friend SJ. She cut the cable/TV cord long before I knew her, but I keep forgetting that and just assume she is in the loop about all the Sunday night PBS shows (which she watches through PBS Passport or other streaming services). The last time I got a similar text was a couple of months ago when she missed the most recent series of "Sherlock".

So for all the folks who cut the cable cord (I WISH I could be one of you), here is my list of Sunday night British PBS shows you should be watching either live, On Demand, or through your streaming service of choice (Amazon Prime, Netflix, PBS Passport - which by the way, is worth the donation - ALL the seasons and masterclasses of the Great British Baking Show. Love it!)

1. Poldark: Captain Ross Poldark creates a boatload of drama when he returns home to Cornwall, England. Wounded in the American Revolutionary war, his family thought he was dead, and life has gone on without him: his father has died; the family home is in disrepair and the fortune is depleted; and worst of all, his beloved is about to marry his best friend/cousin. It is up to Ross to rebuild his life, making his fortune while helping out the tenants/miners who are living on his land. He starts a new business venture mining for copper, makes a formidable enemy of the wealthiest businessman in the area, outruns the revenue men while free trading, and finds a new, steady love in his very own kitchen. (Yay, Demelza!) This drama is based on books by Winston Graham and was originally filmed for television back in the 1970s, but this new adaptation is really engaging and has some lovely scenery, both of Cornwall and of the dreamy Aidan Turner ("Being Human", The Hobbit) who plays Ross Poldark. One word: ::scything:: You can thank me later. Series 3 will be starting on Masterpiece Classic on Sunday, October 1, 2017.

2. Grantchester: After seeing action in WWII, Canon Sidney Chambers seems to enjoy his quiet life in his small Cambridgeshire village of Grantchester, albeit one complete with whisky and jazz, much to the chagrin of his prim and proper housekeeper, Mrs. M. However, his life is turned on end when he gets involved in a murder investigation, and after that Sidney finds himself entangled in more criminal cases. His ability to listen to people and his compassion for their problems make him an excellent investigator. Unfortunately, he is not as discerning in his own life - the man has a full plate: his attraction to both Amanda, who is engaged to another man, and the intriguing Hildegard, a German widow; instructing his new curate Leonard; house training Dickens, his Labrador; and writing his sermon for Sunday. And whatever will the Archdeacon say about Sidney's new sideline in detecting? More Bakewell tart, anyone? Series 3 is currently running on Masterpiece Mystery.


3. Home Fires: It is the eve of war in the Cheshire village of Great Paxford. In the uncertainty wartime, Joyce, the chair of the local Women's Institute, proposes that the group disband until the end of the conflict, but is opposed by Frances, who realizes that the WI is a lifeline for many of the women in the village. Relaunching and expanding the WI to be more inclusive of class and station, Frances and her friends do their bit for the war effort and bring together women in their community in a way that they had not been united previously.  So if the show is about women, why the picture of the RAF flyer? Because Wing Commander Nick is LOVELY! Series 2 just concluded running on Masterpiece Classic. Sadly, this is the final series because ITV didn't commission a 3rd series, but the official story will continue in eBook form from Amazon. (I have just started reading!)

 4. Prime Suspect: Tennison aka Prime Suspect 1973 is the origin story of Jane Tennison's career at the Metropolitan Police. Viewers of the original "Prime Suspect" mini-serieses know Jane (played by the great Helen Mirren) as one of the first female Detective Chief Inspectors at the Met; this series goes back to her very first murder case at the Met while she is still a probationary WPC. The show is dark, which is typical for Prime Suspects, and there are a number of times where you may find yourself yelling at the television. One thing I liked about it was the little ways in which the young, naive, and idealistic Tennison from this program starts to become the more hardened character we know from Prime Suspect. The series just concluded running on Masterpiece Mystery; sadly, it is just a one off.

5. Endeavour is another origin story: this time of the Oxfordshire police's Inspector Morse, a character made famous by John Thaw. Shaun Evans plays Police Constable Endeavour Morse (it's just "Morse" to you and me), a smart, introverted music lover and Oxford drop-out who learns quickly when he joins the CID that he is going to need all his smarts to solve crimes in the circumspect academic community in Oxford of the swinging 1960s. DI Fred Thursday recognizes that Morse has a lot of potential, taking him under his wing as his "bag man", becoming both Morse's mentor and friend, solving crimes together over a pint and a bagged lunch in the pub. Series 4 has its premiere on Sunday, August 20 on Masterpiece Mystery.

ETA:
1. While is it great to watch these shows streaming on your own, it's even more fun if you take part in the live Tweet that goes on when the shows air on Masterpiece on Sunday. It's great to read and to join in! The hashtags are usually the showname and then PBS, eg. #PoldarkPBS
2. PBS does shorten episodes so that they can have their sponsorship bits at the beginning and end of episodes. This is most noticeable on Endeavour. Well, at least it is to me, but then again I just rewatched the whole series on Amazon. I caught a bit of a series 2 episode on PBS this past weekend and realized they skipped a very small subplot that had no impact on the mystery.   

All photos from the Masterpiece website
* text message from S-J

"And there's another country, I've heard of long ago"*

So I went with my parents to Easter Mass at their church because I didn't have enough time to go to Mass at my church in Hartford, go home, make the hors d'oeuvres I was responsible for, AND get myself to my sister's house in the 40 minutes it takes to get there and be on time for dinner.

It was a very nice service. The children's choir was performing the music at this Mass, and they were doing a very fine job (despite singing everything in a high register that I haven't been able to reach since my middle 30s.) Something happened during Communion that "caught me for a loop", as my friend MMH would say.

As the congregation stood up to go to Communion, it was announced that the hymn would be "O God Beyond All Praising", which I didn't know. Or rather I THOUGHT I didn't know because all of a sudden the organist is playing "I Vow to Thee, My Country". At a Catholic Mass. In the United States. In a predominantly Polish-American church. My dad poked me in the back as I got in the communion line, and we shared a little pleased look.

This will surprise no one: as I sung the "proper" lyrics in my head, I teared up a bit.


* "I Vow to Thee, My Country" lyric by Sir Cecil Spring Rice/music by Gustav Holst

Oh, Christmas Tree ... Deconstructed

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Christmastime (TV) is (nearly) here...

It's that time of year again... the time for the importation of British holiday/Christmas specials!!

I ran across the trailer for the "Call the Midwife" Christmas special on-line yesterday and was delighted to learn that we won't have to wait very long for this one! (Unlike the "Downton Abbey" air date delays. I don't know about you, but avoiding spoilers was such a pain, I just ended up reading them. Pbbt!!!) Anyhow, back to Chummy, er, "Call the Midwife", PBS will air the program on December 29 at 7:30pm ET!!! (Thanks for not making us wait for this one, PBS!) Per the PBS website, series 3 will be airing in March. (Huzzah for more Chummy!)

Here is the synopsis:
In 1958 Poplar, the holidays are not just about the opening of presents, but also about the closing of deep wounds. Although the weather is unseasonably mild for this time of year, the lives of the midwives are anything but calm. Jenny’s relationship with Alec continues to blossom and Shelagh’s (formerly Sister Bernadette) quiet wedding to Dr. Turner is underway.
When a thousand-pound explosive is discovered, the district is evacuated and the Nonnatus House team is quick to take charge to ensure that the community is safe and warm. Always one to keep spirits high, Chummy decides to forge ahead with the Cubs Christmas party. However, just when the community’s holiday spirit is renewed, Poplar faces an outbreak of polio, with the repercussions of the illness affecting the nurses and nuns more than they could have ever imagined.

I have a feeling that this is going to be a double hankie episode, friends.

And here's the trailer:

Can't wait!! Between this and "Doctor Who" on December 25th at 8:00pm ET, not too bothered about not getting "Downton" on time. And don't forget, series 3 of "Sherlock" starts January 19th!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

When Sister K and I went to Ireland back in 2010, I had my first experience with the very delicious potato and leek soup. I loved it and ended up eating some in pretty much every stop on our tour (along with the brown bread and scones. Actually, the whole scone thing became kind of an obsession.)

Today, I am hosting a St. Patrick's Day dinner at my house for my family and in addition to the traditional (American) corned beef and cabbage, I wanted to make something that was actually authentically Irish. I found this easy and delicious recipe over on the Irish American Mom blog and am really looking forward to sharing this with the fam this evening. (I made it earlier today - so that the flavors could meld more and so that I would have time for a redo, if necessary. It is sitting on the warming burner right now, smelling amazing, just teasing me with its deliciousness. But I am being good... for now. Couple of modifications that I made to the recipe: I doubled the number of potatoes and I added some chicken low sodium Better Than Boullion to the vegetable stock. I used Ina Garten's suggestion for cleaning the leeks - a salad spinner. Next time I might use more stock as the soup is on the thicker side.)

Off to start the corned beef...

On the First Day of Christmas, my sister gave to me...

...a gi-normous bar of Ca-had-bur-ry...

No, seriously, look:
It's as big as my tea cosy!!!

"Everything was beautiful at the ballet"* (except, not really)

Something that tends to surprise people (because, in general, I am really into the arts) is that I hate the ballet. (Disclaimer: I took ballet lessons for one year. My dad let me quit. Thanks, Dad!) I feel like the dance moves and the music just don't go together, which is counter intuitive to me. Of course, this would make sense as it is my understanding that, for many classical ballets, the music and the choreography were composed independent of each other (again, counter intuitive). Personally, I like it a lot better when the two work in tandem, like in a Broadway musical. (I love Broadway musicals.)

I especially dislike The Nutcracker. Now before I start being accused of imitating Ebenezer Scrooge, I would like to relate some background on this: I saw my first performance of The Nutcracker when I was about 7 years old. I spent a lot of the performance asking the Aunties (who took me, bless their hearts) when the Sugar Plum Fairy was going to turn up. (I distinctly remember this.) Apparently, the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy wasn't all that impressive to me because I was still asking about it at the end of the show. (I think it was one of those productions where Clara does the dance so there wasn't a separate Sugar Plum Fairy.) In the immortal words of Kevin Kline, in his Academy Award© winning role in A Fish Called Wanda, "Disappointed!!!!" I really have never seen a production of The Nutcracker that I feel does justice to Tchaikovsky's brilliant composition. (Disclaimer: This has not stopped me from dancing around my house to the music when the mood strikes me. This is referred to as "Interpretive Nutcracker" and is not remotely the same as ballet. In case you were wondering.)

The version of the record I had. (Thanks, Ebay!)

As a child, I had a long playing record of the Story of the Nutcracker that combined Tchaikovsky's music with Claire Bloom's narration of a simpler version of ETA Hoffman's original tale. This story was delightful, with elements of mystery, creativity, terror, heroism, and wonder. Now this was a dark story for a cold winter's night (or at least a dark-er story), and I played that record over and over again, so much so that I can almost hear Ms. Bloom's voice over parts in the music when I listen to recordings of the musical score now. (I actually listened to this album at my parents' house last Christmas because they still have a turntable. [Mine died several years ago. The fabulous JR is looking after my record collection until I replace it.])

(Image also from Ebay)

My mother also had given me a beautiful, hardcover book of The Nutcracker, illustrated by Maurice Sendak (of Where the Wild Things are fame.) This version of the story came about after the Pacific Northwest Ballet asked Sendak to design the scenery and costumes for their "untraditional" version of the ballet one Christmas. The ballet was much closer to the spirit of the original tale, and Sendak's designs, augmented by additional drawings, have become the imaginative illustrations of this book, while a fresh translation of Hoffman's The Nutcracker and the Mouse King brings an edge that I have never seen in a performance of this story (or in "Interpretive Nutcracker", for that matter.)  I love it to bits, and I get it out every Christmas season to reread while listening to a recording of the ballet music. (It's the London Symphony Orchestra recording, if that matters to you.)

A number of years ago, the Boston Symphony Orchestra did a concert of the complete Nutcracker. I persuaded JeGlide (a sometime co-performer of "Interpretive Nutcracker") to join me at Symphony Hall for the concert. I was so excited; I was practically jumping out of my seat. Not having the dancers in front of me while hearing the familiar music performed by a full symphony orchestra (and conducted by Seiji Ozawa) was such a treat and left such a fresh impression of the music that I really started to appreciate The Nutcracker all over again.

I think that it was because I enjoyed that concert so much that I actually agreed to go to the ballet again when my friend RJ invited me to join her at a performance of Prokofiev's Romeo & Juliet. We ended up leaving at intermission, and we may or may not have left because we were laughing and falling sleep intermittently. (Fortunately, the tickets were free, passed on from a colleague who had season's tickets and couldn't make that night's performance.) So the ballet still isn't for me, but I do love The Nutcracker, just not the ballet of The Nutcracker. Isn't it nice to know that there are plenty of ways you can still enjoy it without all the dancing?



* Lyrics from "At the Ballet" from A Chorus Line, a Broadway musical and therefore acceptable to me