Hats or Helmets?

ROSEMARY HARRIS: Part of my brain is thinking Go Giants! and the rest of it is thinking Will someone please stop to Mrs. Bates?? Somehow picture in picture is not going to work tonight and I have a feeling it will be at a critical moment in the game when Laura Linney - in that cute black lace dress - starts recapping what happened last week on Downton Abbey.

Unless the Superbowl is a nailbiter I will be bailing to see what's happening at DA.

My predictions - Mary will break her engagement, Lavinia will be sent packing (tortured and torn, to be sure, but gone.) Now that Mama Crowley has Matthew to look after, let's hope she's less annoying. Branson, the chauffeur got to second base, sort of, last week, with his hand on Sybil's waist. This week...a kiss?

Other prediction...GIANTS, of course!!!

Your predictions???

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I am trying to imagine Jonathan's face when I suggest clicking over to DA. Not going to happen. I fear around our house, we're gonna rely on TiVo.
I say GO PATS of course..but I must say I don't always love watching big games. I feel awful when someone flubs or makes a mistake.

ROSEMARY: That's so true...GETTING to the Super Bowl is usually the better game.

HANK: MY big big question--DA is all about the entail, right? So, not wanting to spoil anything, but er, things being how they seem to be with Matthew, and thinking of potential heirs...now what???

RHYS BOWEN: I'm not going to cheer for the Giants after they somehow managed to get the better of my 49rs. And Tom Brady is a Bay Area boy, so Go PATS.
And luckily Masterpiece comes on later on the West Coast. Someone has to kill Mrs. Bates soon. And I have a perfect way of solving this whole entitlement thing: Matthew inherits, but is a nice chap and says "I don't need all this money and this huge house. Why don't you share it with me and I'll officially adopt the child of any of the Downton girls?" No need for series 3.

HALLIE EPHRON: Not a big football fan, and neither is Jerry. We'll be watching DA, most definitely, and here are my bets:

Yes, Mary will dump Rupert Murdoch... er, Sir Richard.
Lavinia will fade into the wallpaper.
Matthew will walk, etc.

ROSEMARY: ..walk, etc.? Hallie, you're so delicate!

HALLIE: O'Brien will have to choose between her loyalty to Cora and her twisted relationship with Thomas. No doubt which way that will end because O'Brien is redeemable.
I don't much care about Bates and Anna.
Gwen will kill herself or become a prostitute, because what else is there?

As my mother was fond of saying: Nous verrons. (We shall see.)

ROSEMARY: Gwen will kill herself ... ooh that's interesting ...and EDITH will discover her maternal side? I do think Mary will inspire Matthew to greatness..or at least tumescence, but not sure that will happen this weekend. Frankly, Sir Richard is just as rich and a little edgier than Matthew.

Nous verrons!

On summer's end

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability. ~Sam Keen

JAN: I biked down to South Beach this morning to get my last glimpse of the ocean before heading home. And now I'm laundering beach towels and packing up coolers with all the windows and doors open so I can get my fill of sea breezes.

And you know what I feel? Relief.

I loved the crystal clear days, the strong sun, the stars at night. But now? Enough of that.

How can I focus on the right name for a character or the clearest definition if all I want to do is get on my bike and ride to the beach? How can I puzzle out a workable plot when someone needs a fourth for doubles on a beautiful day? Clearly to get anything done, I need a chill outside, lots of clouds, and preferably a downpour.

In fact, I do my best writing between January and March just because the weather is so bad. Obviously, I have issues with self-discipline -- I've had to remove Solitaire from every computer I've ever had. I also get bored easily, have little tolerance for routine, and need a change in seasons just so I don't have to eat barbequed food for another eight months.

So it could just be me, but does anyone else look forward to cold weather for its positive effect on productivity?.

ROBERTA: Funny that you're so patient with slogging through tedious or difficult reading, Jan! You saw with Friday's post how much I'll regret the end of the summer produce season. (that's me, eating first!) We had to pull our cucumber plants out, and the zucchini, and the beans are looking peaked. And like Hallie, I hate winter. The thing that bothers me even more than the cold is the light. Or lack of it, I should say. It gets dark here in Connecticut by 4:30 in the worst part of the season. And that makes me feel like hibernating, not writing.

HALLIE: So THAT'S why I haven't gotten but a piddling amount of my new book written for the last three months!

For me, end of summer means college starts and my husband goes back to work. Which is one fewer distraction in the house but no one to hang out with at lunch. The worst thing about summer ending is winter is not far off. I hate hate hate winter. Hate ice, hate snow, hate being cold cold cold.

Ro: Summer started late for me and in the past few years it's ended late. In September I rent a house in Wellfleet. Most of the other renters and tourists have gone home and I get to pretend that I live in a small town with a general store that just happens to have a beach outside. The restaurants start to close and as the days go by there a fewer and fewer people on the road and on the beach. It's wonderful. I finished my first book at the house so it will always be special to me.For me the worst thing about the summer ending is that everything else is going to come so fast...Bouchercon, Crimebake, holidays, then the conferences start...aaayyyy!!

HANK: A box arrived at our porch in mid-July. Usually I'm the one who orders things, but I wasn't expecting a parcel. My husband said--oh, this is a surprise for us. Huh.

Inside was a turquoise blue two-person swimming pool float. Like a floating double chaise, where the two people are facing each other as they float. It's perfect for reading, and even has little spaces that are just the size of a diet coke bottle. Heaven.

All my vacation, 17 wonderful days from mid August til Labor Day, I'd write in the morning, we'd have lunch by the pool, then I'd come back in and write til 4. Then from 4 to 6--floating and reading.

Today, we're putting our float away. (After the football game, Jonathan says.)

Sigh. My white skirt is looking tired. Gin and tonics seem a little too chilly. My bathing suit is hanging on the shower rack, and hasn't budged for a week. We cook inside. Transition is transitioning.

But the dahlias are still blooming like mad. And the air is clear and dry. And I don't have to face a new math teacher or clique of classmates. I like it.

JAN: Oh dear, Hank. Now you're making me miss summer, when I was so determined to do away with it. But I must remind myself that the swimming pool float would be useless to me -- what without the pool. And of course, as you remind me, Patriots are on this afternoon -- and although I don't watch football -- I do make nachos at halftime. A perfect transition!