Do-Overs

Lucy overlooking le Pont D'Avignon

LUCY BURDETTE: Okay, last mention of my vacation, and then I promise I'm done. Just about forty years ago (I know, how is that even possible?), I took off for a junior year semester in France. As my college wasn't encouraging study abroad, I tagged on to a program with Macalester College. We reached Paris in time for New Year's eve and I spent that night celebrating with total strangers eating strange things (my first ever raw oysters!) and speaking a foreign language. I was instantly homesick.

After a month in that city, we transferred to Avignon, in the south of France, for four months. Sad to say, these are not happy memories. Along with a buddy, I was placed with an Italian family who had two small girls in a very small apartment well out of the city. As our stay evolved, they became more unhappy with us--we took too many showers, we ate too much breakfast, we used too much toilet paper, we did too much laundry. Fortunately, my roommate had met a lovely French family in church. They began cooking for the two of us every Sunday. After multiple courses, we hurtled around the countryside, the American girls in the backseat and the Cassans in the front, him smoking a stogie and describing the sights. They were utterly lovely and truly saved us from wretchedness.

Girls take Gourdes, France

So now, back to the present. As part of our October vacation, I visited Provence with my older sister and our two husbands. We had four strenuous but exhilarating days touring the gorgeous countryside and picture-perfect small towns on bikes. My husband and I took one last night to revisit Avignon. It was a do-over of sorts, and a wonderful trip. But whenever I think of that semester, I think of how shy and homesick I was, and how much more I could have done with the time, had I been able to push myself to embrace the adventure.

There are other points in my life that I wish I could do over, and probably many things I learned along the way. And it makes me smile to think that I've given my character Hayley Snow the gumption to make the most of a difficult situation that I lacked back in college. But I'll stop there and ask: Is there a moment you wish you could do over?

RHYS BOWEN: I see my whole life as an echo of Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken, Lucy.  I don't have any major regrets but I have found myself wondering from time to time what would have happened if.... For example when I was in my teens I was at a professional drama school. (One of my classmates was Jane Asher). I was offered a great part in a BBC drama BUT rehearsals started the same day as my final exams at school. My parents wanted me to go to university. Final exams mattered. So I turned down the part and left drama school soon afterwards. But I've found myself thinking What if I'd taken it and gone on to an acting career. What if I'd stayed with the BBC in London instead of accepting the job in Australia? What if I'd stayed in Australia instead of marrying John?

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I have a do-over a bit like yours, Lucy.  When I was first married to my Scottish ex-husband, we lived in Edinburgh. I loved the city, and the people.  But we had very little money, I had no friends, and it was too bloody cold in our flat to stay inside most days. I couldn't get a work permit, so my days were long and quite empty. I bought cheap bus tickets and just rode around the city to keep warm, or saved up for a cup of tea in the cafe at the Botanical Gardens. I suppose all that time to look at things and think went into the imaginative hopper, but once JK Rowling published the first Harry Potter book and told her story, I couldn't  help but think, "What if I'd kept warm in coffee shops instead of buses, and started a novel???" (It would be ten years before I attempted my first book.) I can pretty much guarantee I wouldn't have been as successful as JKR, but... what if?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing. I was a terrible student in college, but it made me what I am. Two ridiculous marriages-- but I learned about marriage and love and respect and would do it all just the same way. NO regrets, not one. On big stuff.

On little stuff? sure. The other day in a radio interview, the host said--okay, Hank, in 30 seconds, pitch your book. HOW MANY TIMES have I done that? I flubbed, so ridiculously. (Jonathan insists I didn't. But I can think of all the things I should have said, but didn't.) I dearly wish for a do over on that one, and have thought about it WAY too many times. And last night at the library, a woman asked me what to do write her first her book. I regret I told her--find your story and tell it. Sit at your computer--and type chapter one. And go from there. I should have been more--loving.

And Debs and Rhys and Lucy--you are both wonderful. Now. Because of the decisions you made.


LUCY: And we all see you, Hank, as one of the most generous writers around!

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: I agree with Hank — everything you go through, the mistakes you make, make you who you are.

I think my only regret is looking back is at the times in my life when I tried to live my life to please other people. There's just no winning at that game. But is that a lesson I needed to bungle until I figured it out? Maybe I just have a thick head and it took a while to sink in!

HALLIE EPHRON: Ah, this is giving me a Peggy Sue moment. High school. Would love to do over (not all of it, maybe just a few days) knowing what I know now.
I also wish I'd asked my mother more questions about what she was thinking, and what it was like growing up the way she did, what it was like when she had her first child.... Wish I'd gotten to my uncle (her brother) before he died to ask him what she was like as a child. But I wasn't curious until it was too late.

LUCY: I so relate to that Hallie, as my mother died too young as well. Okay, your turn, Red readers. Would you do anything over if you had the chance?

And PS, we are doing something different next week, talking about what we're working on--we think you'll enjoy it!

MODERN WOMEN

DEBORAH CROMBIE: As some of you may know, my mother passed away a week ago. She was ninety-two and had been ill for at least a decade, so while I am sad for my sake, I am not sad for her.  But I have done a lot of thinking about my mother's life, trying to put it in some sort of perspective.

As an adult, and particularly since I became a published writer, I've always had a very strong network of female friends. We go out to dinner together, we travel together, we keep up by phone or email on a regular basis, we provide one another with support through tough times. Most of these women are MY friends, and our relationships function outside my marriage except for the occasional intersection.

And so over the years I felt slightly superior to my mother, and thought that her life was lacking because she did everything with my father and she didn't have female friends that weren't "couples" friends.

Well, the other night at dinner, a (female) friend pointed out to me that I had it exactly backwards.

Consider the fact that my mom was born in 1921. When she was twenty, she married my dad, who was fourteen years older. My brother was born in 1942, and I suppose for the first few years she did stay home while my father worked and traveled, but I suspect it was not willingly. By the time I came along, my grandmother had come to live with us, freeing my mother to become my dad's full-time partner in work and life. They ran their own business. They traveled together. They played golf together, they went to the horse races together. There were no "men's nights" for my dad, and no "ladies' lunches" for my mom. (She'd have been bored to tears...)

My friend pointed out to me just how modern that was, in a generation where middle-class wives stayed home, taking care of the house, looking after the  children, getting supper on the table for husbands who came home from the office and settled down with pipe and slippers.

My mother led a life that was, for her generation, shockingly liberated.

And I wonder how I could have been so focused on the importance of my own life that I didn't see it.

So, dear Reds, do you consider yourself more modern, and more liberated, than your mothers? (And what, I wonder, will our daughters say about us?)

(I thought the photo, above, of the film, The Women, from which we take the title of our blog, was quite appropriate for the topic!  And what is with the Princess Beatrice hat? We'll get to that later in the week!)


RHYS BOWEN: Debs, so interesting to hear about your mother's life because it mirrored my mothers, in a similar time period. She had me at 21 but worked for her whole life (she ended up as a school principal). Her work was her life. She was always arranging district music festivals and such. When she wasn't working she and my father did everything together--shopped at the supermarket on Friday evenings, walked the dog, went to restaurants. After they retired they were never apart.

She had a couple of women friends from school but it was my dad who came first. Thus, when he died, she had a hard time coping with loneliness. She never learned how to make friends and when she was dying was surprised by how many people loved her.

I've been a writer for most of my life, thus not part of the daily grind, so my women friends are of major importance to me. I have a terrific support group in California and just starting to make lovely friends in Arizona. I enjoy doing things with my husband but I have such fun with my women friends. One of them claims we've saved each other thousands in therapy bills, and it's true!

HALLIE EPHRON: My mother didn't have any women friends. She and my father wrote screenplays together, and in those days she would not have had a peer group of women. Besides, a woman had to be so competitive and driven to be successful in the way that she was, it didn't leave room for friendships. Her social life was THEIR social life, and I'm quite sure that she was intensely lonely because my father had his own social life that revolved around tennis and poker, "guy" things. She died when I was 22 and not old enough to have asked her all the questions I now wish I'd asked.

I love my women friends, but my husband is my very best friend. We're very compatible, shared interests galore. He doesn't do a lot of "guy" things and, come to think of it, I don't do a lot of "girl" things. I wouldn't think of making non-business dinner or travel plans without him. Plus he makes me laugh.

LUCY BURDETTE: My mother had four kids in the span of six years and she also felt obliged to follow where my father's career led. This meant quite a few transfers from NJ to Illinois to NJ to Michigan to NJ. She did not get a lot of pleasure from cooking or homemaking, so eventually went back to school and became a teacher. I don't know if any of that explains the fact that I'm not sure she ever "found" herself. She had women friends but I'm not sure how much she confided about what she felt--and she was certainly lonely too.

Like Hallie, I feel like I have a very lucky constellation of blessings in my life, a husband who's a great friend and supporter, a compelling career, and terrific women friends! Woman today certainly have challenges--like realizing we can't have it all, not all at once--But I do think it's an easier and more satisfying time to be a woman than in my mother's lifetime. 

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Oh, I don't remember any of my mom's--oh, wait yes, I  do. But she didnt have close women friends when we (five kids!) were growing up. There were woman who Mom did things with, but in my memory, they were the wives of my step-father's business acquaintances.

AND you know me--Jonathan and I do everything together. I don't have any urge to dump him to go off with the girls--although I adore you and love when we hang out. And I certainly would never make a book world decision without consulting the Reds.  Jonathan has a group of men friends who from time to time have an MBE--Male Bonding Experience--where they have dinner and  go to a bad movie. The "wives" --some of whom are my dear friends--are now lobbying to go with them.

I wonder if--because of our jobs and career pressures--there's something that has to be "given up." I think it's so true that now that we can have it all--we've realized we CAN, but only a few things at a time, if we're going to be successful at any of it. So much of our lives, now, have to do with choices. 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: In some ways, my mother has had a very traditional life for a woman of her generation. Got her "MRS" in college, followed her husband's career around, and spent a great deal of her time as a stay-at-home mother. However, she also survived an early widowhood, poverty as a single mother who worked as a substitute teacher to support her children while going to night school for her masters, and has picked up stakes and moved lock, stock and barrel more times than I can count.

My mother wanted all her children to have happy marriages, but she always stressed the importance of being able to make a living - for yourself and for your kids. "It's harder to find a good job than a good husband," she said. Mom has always been very social and sociable - officers club, bridge club, volunteering at her church, exercise buddies. Of the two of us, I'm the one with few friends, male or female. I can be very hermit-like and hard to get hold of. I agree with Hank - that may be the result of my choices. I protect my work/family/marriage time by keeping other relationships low maintenance.

DEBS: Such interesting responses! Like Julia, while my women friends are a very important part of my life (and have, as Rhys says, saved me a fortune in therapy bills over the years) I tend to be very protective of my time and of the energy expended in those relationships. Nothing takes precedence over my Friday night at-home movie date-night with Rick, or time spent with my daughter...

And then we start to think about how our mothers as models affect our female characters... Isn't that another can of worms????

What about you, our RED readers? Do you feel that you are more liberated than your mothers?

As a last note, here's one of my favorite photos of my mother.  I think it was taken sometime in the late 80s or early 90s, and it's the one I used for her obituary, but I had to crop out my dad. It was very hard to find a picture of her in the prime of mid-life without him.  And that, I think, is a pretty nice epitaph.

BREAKING NEWS - CONGRATS TO HANK AND RHYS ON THEIR AGATHA NOMINATIONS!!!

BEST NOVEL 
THE OTHER WOMAN - HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN
BEST HISTORICAL NOVEL
THE TWELVE CLUES OF CHRISTMAS - RHYS BOWEN
WELL DONE, LADIES!!!


IT'S OFFICIAL, I'M TURNING INTO MY MOTHER...

ROSEMARY HARRIS: I cannot tell a lie, I saw this heading on another blog. The content is not the same (and we all know you can't copyright a title) but props to Jenny From The Blog for giving me the idea.
Not having kids, this isn't about repeating mom phrases like - "You'll shoot your eye out" or "your face will freeze like that." In our home the most popular one had to do with the Brooklyn Bridge. But I can remember looking around our Brooklyn apartment and thinking "why does she need all this STUFF??"
Lo and behold, I find myself collecting lots of the same stuff my mother collected. China. Linens. More vases, gloves and scarves than anyone really needs.
I bake the same holiday treats - struffoli - that she did.
And I have an embarassing fondness for things with my name on them "It's a pot with the word Rosemary on it...I should buy it!" Somewhere Mom is smiling and saying "I told you so."
 
So Reds - we know all of our mothers were wonderful, this is not about work ethic, joie de vivre or smarts - have you picked up any goofy, silly, surprising habits or traits from your mothers?

HALLIE EPHRON: My mother loved words -- she'd recite poetry after dinner (Edward Arlington Robinson "Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn..." and Vachel Lindsay "Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black..." and Edna Millay "My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - it gives a lovely light...). Words were dessert.
She was also bossy and opinionated and loved food (sound familiar?) She didn't cook, clean, or collect, and she hated to shop unless it was at a used bookstore. She had a dark side, too, all which I write about in a piece called "Growing Up Ephron" that's runs in the March issue of "O" Magazine -- on the shelf 2/12!

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: And a fabulous piece it is, Hallie!
My mom--stylish, artistic, opinionated. No cleaning, no cooking--well, when we were kids, I guess, but not later. Hmmm. She had SO MANY CLOTHES. Hmmm. And oh, she would sing snippets of songs when she heard part of the lyrics. "Why look so awfully gloomy?.." Now, sadly, I do, too. 

She was incredibly critical. I mean--incredibly.
HANK (a few years ago) Mom! I won another Emmy!
MOM (pauses) Oh, honey, do you still care about that stuff?
I'm pretty critical, too...but I try to keep quiet about it.
But she used to talk to the checkout people at the grocery, which embarrassed the heck out of me. Now I do it, too. And she'd just comment to strangers who are shopping--"oh, that looks terrific." I DIED when she did it. Now, I do too--and can't believe someone wouldn't be fascinated by my opinion.
Here's her wedding photo, circa 1948.
Am I my mother? Oh, yes, indeedy. Sometimes I look in the mirror and flinch in surprise.

RHYS BOWEN: Hank, did we have the same mother? Mine was a school principal and tough and unsympathetic.
Me: I didn't get that part in the school play that I wanted.
Mother: What a stupid thing to care about. As if a play matters.
It did to me...
So I made a supreme effort always to be supportive to my kids when it came to making teams, being asked to dances etc because they did matter.
So I would have thought that I was nothing like my mom. And yet... yikes, I'm starting to look like her. And she loved to shop and had hundreds of purses and I'm starting to gravitate to the purses in Macy's.
Strangely enough when she retired and got old we became great friends and laughed at the same things. And she talked to her dog in baby talk, something she never did to me. And I find myself using exactly the same words to talk to my daughter's dog.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: My mom was a fusser and a "fixer." Always worrying about everyone's diets and health. I say "was" because although she will be 92 on Monday, the 11th, she's suffered from Alzheimer's for a good few years now. So every time I worry that my daughter is too thin or that my hubby eats too much junk food when I'm out of town, I pinch myself. Stop that!
And oh, the lists! She wrote everything down, notes and lists constantly on every scrap of paper. Now, of course, I understand why. And I'm doing it, too. My to-do list, my grocery list... I can't function without them. Very scary.
The photo is from Thanksgiving, 2010, when she was a little more alert than she is now. The three generations; mother, daughter, granddaughter.

LUCY BURDETTE: My mother has been gone longer than I knew her--that's kind of weird. She had four of us kids and a job teaching grade school. So when she got home, she'd retreat to her bedroom with a snack and a book to get some space. I definitely got the "need for space" gene too. And there's no better place to get it than bed.
She was absolutely pet mad and every one of us kids picked that trait up too. Like her, we haul our pets around the country because we can't bear to be without them. Of course Tonka comes to Key West, but now the cat has been added to the travel team, much to John's dismay.
I may have already told you this, but her famous sex education talk with me went like this: "Some day you'll feel about a man the way you do about the cat."
John is still waiting.
By the way, Hayley Snow's mother is named Janet, just like mine.
 
ROSEMARY: Sex education...that's a whole other blog post! On that note...
 

Perfection at my Fingertips

Sylvia Fowler: [Showing her nails to Mary] Mary, how do you like that?
Nancy Blake: Too, too adorable.
Sylvia Fowler: Ah, you have no idea how it stays on. I get it at Sydney's... A wonderful new manicurist, Olga's her name, she's marvelous.Isn't that divine? Jungle Red!
Nancy Blake: Looks like you've been tearing at somebody's throat!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Global climate change. A contentious presidential primary. Afghanistan's a mess. The economy's on life-support. Clearly, it's time to talk about...

Manicures. Sorry, guys, I know you were hoping for a discussion of the Sweet Sixteen, but Ross's beloved Hoyas went down to defeat on Sunday, so we're not talking about college hoops in deference to his loss. I've been thinking about manicures a lot lately -- perhaps because the weather's been so unusually warm (that's going to be the extent of our climate change discussion) and warm weather always means bright, happy nails for me.

When we went off to Florida two weeks ago, I gave myself a quickie pedicure because I realized the day before we left that I'd be showing my feet in public for the first time since August '11. Every since then, I've been admiring my own toes; even when they're only uncovered long enough to take off one pair of socks and put on another, the cheerful coral is like a memento of those warm, sunny days.

Then, last week, my youngest daughter and I spied a sign outside the local day spa. In a bid to get more new customers through the doors (that's today's economic analysis, if you're keeping count) they were running a gel manicure special -- only $20.

Now normally, I'm pretty much a D-I-Y nail painter. I like to change up my color frequently, plus? I'm cheap. But I'd been reading about the super-hard, super-shiny gel manicures that lasted for up to three weeks, and I thought, why not? So Saturday, Youngest and I went in. I selected Cajun Shrimp, a creamy red with coral undertones, and she got Pompeii Pink, shimmery and purpley and suitable for a 6th grader. The nail technician painstakingly applied layer after layer after layer, each of which was baked by ultraviolet light. At the end of the process, my nails looked like someone in the Rolls Royce factory had been hand-lacquering and sanding them. They gleamed. They shone. They looked both expensive and bulletproof.

I had to go home and change my outfit to something worthy of my manicure. Even now, as I type this, I am stopping to admire my flawless fingertips. I'm already planning my next visit. Because if it really does last three weeks, that averages out to less than the cost of a cup of coffee per day. Small price for having one thing in my life that is absolutely, unquestioningly perfect.

How about you, Reds? Manis? Pedis? Or is there some other small beauty treat that makes you feel like you could conquer the world?

LUCY BURDETTE: I was a fiend for painted nails in my earlier incarnation, but now I have to keep them so short, they'd just look silly. The tiniest little extension of fingernail gives me tendonitis when I type--ridiculous!

I've never been a big fan of pedicures--until I tried having one by a pal from exercise class. My feet have never felt so good--and I had no fear about absorbing germs from the masses. My sister-in-law did make fun of me for choosing a color that was pale, pale, pale--next time maybe I'll go wild and ask for Jungle Red:).

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Gel. Rules.
And we are SO au courant, Reds. Did you see in this Sunday's NY Times a whole article on gel manicures? I must say, I am completely won over. My fingernails are now happily #33, which isn't as compelling as Cajun Shrimp but at my neighborhood mani place, the gels are by number. But you know me.It's Jungle Red, if I ever saw it.

It really does last three weeks--but I'd say, actually two, because your nails start to grow out, and it looks a little strange. But it does not chip, does not crack, and is impervious to everything far as I can see. I have actually researched whether there's any health drawback to it, and, interestingly, some people suggest wearing little cotton gloves with the fingertips cut off under the UV light that it needs to harden, because you are baking your hands in, essentially, sunlight. Some salons actually put sunscreen on your hands.

I can imagine some of the Reds HOWLING with laughter. I know, more than you wanna know. But hey. I vote this is a good thing.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Daughters are dangerous, Julia! Mine got me hooked on pedis a couple of years ago, and like any addiction, there is no going back. I love my Vietnamese nail salon (I'm wondering if the Dallas area is world capitol of Vietnamese nail salons?) and even if I can only afford a polish change, I keep my toes done from March to October (flip flop weather in Big D.) But the Deluxe Pedicure? With sea salt scrub, minty clay wrap, and hot stone massage? Absolute bliss. Makes me feel like a million dollars.

I did a gel manicure for the first time before my book launch in February, and you're right--it looked like the finish on a Rolls Royce. I did a dark purple, so it showed when it started to chip at the cuticles at almost three weeks. Next time I'll do a lighter color and maybe can go four weeks. Unfortunately, our salons charge more than $10....

Thanks for the frivolous boost!

JAN BROGAN - I love pedicures - because they last at least three weeks without the gel. I had my love affair with gel manicures last fall - it was awesome how great they looked for how long, but then I had one that left my nails looking like they'd been digging weeds in the Sahara, so I haven't been back. Like we are talking serious NAIL ABUSE. I think, though, it probably depends WHERE you have them done.

I'm pretty much into anything that smacks of vanity, but like Roberta, I have to keep my nails short. I play acoustic guitar, which those nails are always wrecking a chord, so I don't have a lot of incentive to keep them painted. I also get fidgety in the salon, unless of course, it's an event, and I take my daughter. I think pretty much everything you do is more fun when you have your daughter with you (more expensive, too, though.)

RHYS BOWEN: I have the world's most depressing finger nails. They break and rip and have to be kept short. I've had a few manicures in my life but I'm lucky if they last for the big day before they chip. However, I have never tried gel. Maybe this time...
But pedicures are something else. MY daughter took me to my first and I loved the massage chair, the foot massage and the red-purple polish lasted until it started to grow out. Now it's close to sandal season in Arizona I might think of another visit to the salon (why are they all Vietnamese? Did you ever see the famous skit?)

ROSEMARY HARRIS: Of course I love the look of a pedicure but I am really really squeamish about anyone touching these little piggies. I've had two friends tell me they'll never go with me again because I embarassed the heck out of them by squirming as if I was being tortured. I do the best I can on my own and stay with pale pinkish beige on the tootsies. And between gardening, baking and the keyboard most manicures don't last long for me. Plus my nails grow ridiculously fast, like my hair.

As it happens I watched The Women this weekend and got a kick out of the flashing jungle red nails - but my fave nail polish scene in a movie (and kudos for getting that shot from Scarlet Street) is from Lolita. James Mason polishing Sue Lyons' toenails - oh dear!

JULIA: How about you, dear reader? Do you have a standing appointment at the salon? Or does your nail routine consist of a set of clippers once in a while? Let your hair down and dish -- after all, getting your nails done is a great time to catch up on gossip!