Archive for June, 2020
I read this book yesterday. It’s a fast read, a one day read, and I liked it. Betsy’s a woman who did things her own way, mostly because she had no real idea how to do things. She’s very “go with the flow.” She knows she was lucky. The people she mentions, she mentions with love and great friendship, admiring their talent and generosity. She grateful for everyone she’s met. She makes mistakes but just moves on and keeps going. She never really knew how things worked, but everything fell into place for her. She has terrible taste in men and admits it.
The book is simply written and to the point.
I think Betsy is fabulous.
Below is my Betsy Bag. It’s been with me in Paris and Italy. I’m a fan. 🙂
“Who said you could wear my shirt and what’s with the dog?”
“Rex, this is my sister. Her name is Heather, but I call her Crabby Pants.”
“Funny,” said Heather. “Take off my shirt.”
“MOM!” yelled Lilly. “I got a dog.”
“A dog?” asked her mother, coming out of the kitchen.
“This is Rex. He found me.”
Rex held up his paw.
Her mother bent down, looked into the dog’s eyes, shook his paw and said, “Welcome home Rex.” Then she went back into the kitchen. “You have to go and get dog food Lilly.”
“I like her,” said Rex.
“So do I,” said Lilly.
“And he needs a bath,” she added.
“A bath?” said Rex.
“Don’t worry, it will be fun.”
“Sure. What kind of food do you like?”
“I have no idea. I’ve been eating whatever I find in the alley.”
“Stay here while I go to the store. I’ll be right back. You can sleep on my bed,” she said, showing him where her room was. Then she kissed him on the face.”
“Thank you for loving me.”
“How could I not?” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re so beautiful.”
He licked her, sighed, put his head on her pillow and closed his eyes. Lilly smiled and covered him with her blanket.
The store was almost empty. She grabbed a cart and went to the dog food aisle, where she threw a huge bag of dry food and twenty-five cans of dog food that said it was the best thing your dog could ever eat, into it. She picked up a few toys and some things she thought the cats would like. When she got to the counter, she saw James, paying for a bottle of water.
“Lilly,” he said, his eyes wide.
She fell into his arms. “I’m so happy to see that the carrots didn’t get you. Come home with me and you can meet Rex, he’s the dog I saved and I didn’t die this time and I think one of the things the woman in the blue robe gave me was the ability to understand what animals are saying. I haven’t introduced the dog to the cats yet so, you should be there to see that and the dog is going to live with me.”
“Take a deep breath,” he laughed.
“I never thought I’d see you again. You look fantastic.”
“I think that was one of my gifts,” he said shyly.
She stared at him, then put her arms around him and kissed him.
“That will be eight-five dollars and seventy-nine cents,” said the kid, standing behind the counter. “Whenever you’re finished making out.”
“Making out?” she said, pulling away from James. “Who says that anymore?”
“I do,” said the kid. “How are you going to pay for this?”
“Why is it so expensive?”
“It’s dog food. Dog food is expensive. You bought enough to feed a small kennel.”
She handed him her mother’s credit card, then kissed James again.
“What do ya think?” she asked.
“About what,” gasped James.
“OMG,” he said, and kissed her again.
“That’s what I think too,” said Lilly. “I mean we were dead together, right? Being dead together has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
“There’s someone behind you,” said the kid. “Take it outside, get a room, do whatever you want, but get out of the way.”
“Thanks,” she said, dragging the cart toward the door. “Are you coming home with me?”
“Yes. Can I move in?”
“Sure,” she said. Why not.”
“Where’s your car?”
“How did you plan on getting the nine million pounds of dog food home?”
“I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Then it’s a good thing I drove.”
“It is,” she laughed.
“MOM! I BROUGHT HOME A BOY.”
Her mother walked out of the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“This is James.”
“Can he live here?” asked Lilly.
“Are you homeless, James?”
“I am not.”
“Do you want to live here?”
“Then ask your parents if it’s okay. We’re having vegetarian chili for dinner and corn muffins and ice cream for dessert, with pie, of course. No carrots in anything, but I don’t know why I said that. We all hate carrots. We absolutely never have carrots. Dinner in thirty minutes.”
“Is she serious? I can really live here?”
“Sure, why not? She’s good about things like that.”
“Wanna met Rex the wonder dog?”
“Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs.
Rex was asleep on the bed and the two cats were sitting in the doorway looking at him.
“He’s you’re new brother,” said Lilly.
“Fat chance,” said Bitsy.
“Hey, be nice. He was living on the street and he’s had a hard life.”
“What did she say?” asked Cleo.
“You heard exactly what I said. And no chasing, biting, scratching, or terrorizing him and don’t hide his toys.”
“Can you understand what I’m saying?”
“Every single word.”
“Rats,” said Cleo. “Now we have to talk about her behind her back.”
“You mean like why doesn’t she get a haircut and…”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing,” said James.
“No. Not you. My cat is dissing me.”
“Let’s go,” said Bitsy. “I need to use the litter box.”
“James this is Rex. Rex, this is James.”
“Hi,” said James.
“I bought you a ton food, Rex.”
“Are you two in love?” asked the dog.
“Hold on, I’ll ask,” said Lilly. “He wants to know if we’re in love.”
“Definitely,” said James.
“Good,” said Rex. “I like him.”
“TIME FOR DINNER!” yelled her mother. “Bring the dog.”
Sylvia lives in the attic of a bookstore in Paris. She’s named after the original owner and founder of the shop. Every mouse who has ever lived in the bookshop has been named Sylvia. And a mouse has always lived on bookstore premises, because everyone knows that having a mouse in a bookshop brings good luck. Certainly Ms Beach knew it, when she invited the first mouse inside. And since a cat always lives in the shop as well, a deal was struck stating that the cat would always protect the mouse from harm. So far, everything has been fine and the bookshop is one of the most famous in the world.
Sylvia takes her job, as bookstore mouse, very seriously. She scampers around, cleaning up small messes, putting books back in their proper places and dancing in front of small children. Her nest is decorated with the pages of old books and it’s comfy and warm. Sometimes she sleeps with the cat, but she’s most comfortable in her own bed.
Although, when it’s very hot, she sometimes sleeps in a small basket by the register, so she can catch a breeze and greet customers, while listening to all the different languages and accents. She’s very good at guessing where people are from. She said that she learned that skill from her mother, the former bookshop mouse. She inherited her position and her love of words, from her. She misses her mom terribly, but knows that she was happy to pass the job of bookshop mouse, into her capable paws.
Now and then she goes out in front of the shop, in order to pick up a leaf or two. She likes to have a few in her nest. She knows it’s dangerous, but the cat usually watches out for her.
She’s very happy with her life and with her job. She gets plenty cheese and crackers, as well as other delicious snacks and treats. She also gets a lot of pets and kisses. Although, it seems that some people are afraid of her. She’s not sure why, since people are a million times bigger than she is and she would never hurt them in any way at all. One of the girls who works there said that people have been taught to fear mice. She asked her why, but the girl said she didn’t have any idea why anyone would teach that, or be afraid of her. Then the girl picked her up and kissed her a bunch of times and put her back into her basket.
When someone comes in an asks for a particular book, she knows just where it is. There have been times when the staff needed her help and she was able to take them to the right shelf immediately. But she does live there, after all, and she spends a lot of time reading and looking at the books.
The new Sylvia, the owner, is very nice. She’s made some big changes for the better, but the one thing she didn’t change was the position of the bookstore mouse. She knows how much luck the bookstore mouse bring to her shop. Like the wonderful woman she was named after, all the Sylvia’s have to stick together.
The chicklets have wanted to go back to Paris, since we got home from Paris, and that four years ago. Lately, they have been leaving old pictures around for me to see. This one was from the elevator of one of the hotels we stayed at. They had such a good time.
I’ve explained the virus situation to them, but they don’t really think chicklets can get the virus. I told them that I can’t send them to Paris alone and they understood that. They know a hotel won’t just let a bunch of chicklets move into one of their rooms for two weeks, not without a human, but they want to go anyway.
I told them they should have a Paris Party for everyone and now they’re all excited and I think they’re going to do it.
I’ll keep you posted. If you can’t go to Paris…bring Paris to you, right? Chirp.
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Today is the 120th birthday of the pilot and writer Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. He wrote The Little Prince, a copy of which was given to me by a very good friend. His inscription is included below. The world is a better place because he was in it and still feels the loss that he has […]
It has been said that Chicagoans have an accent. People from Chicago can’t hear it, of course, but I don’t doubt that it’s true. I love New York accents, even though New Yorkers can’t hear their accent either. It’s that way for everyone. I met someone from Australia and couldn’t understand a word he was saying, even thought he was speaking English. But that’s true of a lot of people I hear who come from down south as well.
Here’s the thing. We seem to be unable to understand that like accents, we are where we come from. Our beliefs and world views are from Chicago, New York, Australia and from down south. We don’t CHOOSE to be born in those places and sound the way we do, we are simply born in those place and end up sounding the way we do and believing the things we do. If people who aren’t from Chicago, were born in Chicago, they would sound like they came from Chicago and be part of what we are, because they would be FROM Chicago.
If I was born and raised in NY then I would be the way New Yorkers are. Same goes for Australia or anywhere on the entire earth. We’re only different from each other by chance. So when the French say that American’s smile too much, it’s only because they aren’t Americans. If they were Americans they would smile a lot as well. Why don’t people get that?
Yes, we’re different from each other, but only because of where we come from. We could be anything, depending on where we are planted. Get that part? In the beginning, when we’re born, we COULD BE ANYTHING because basically, WE ARE ALL THE SAME. It’s only when cultures brainwash and insist that we become the way they want us to become, that we stop being one people. But, in reality, we START OUT AS ONE PEOPLE.
Religion, Education, The Establishment are corrupt and filled with lies, which they pass on to innocent children, so they can kill each other in wars and hate each other for stupid reasons, like their flags, the color of their skin, the shapes of their bodies, the gods they were FORCED to believe in, or the gender they love. That’s when we show our cruelty and insanity.
In the beginning, we could become anything. Adults take that innocent openness and turn it into whatever they want to. Any of us could have become the very thing we dislike, but for the conditioning we’ve had. Horrifying as that may be…it’s the truth. It won’t change anything, but it’s something to think about. We start out as one and are TAUGHT to be what we become.