This Mother’s Day was a quiet one for Clif and me. For the first time in many years, we had neither daughter to celebrate the day with us. After sighing sadly, I decided we would still celebrate with simple pleasures, which is how we celebrate all special days. And so we did.

In the morning, Clif made pancakes for breakfast, and while I know it’s bragging, I must say that his are the absolute best. Period.

After pancakes, while we were cleaning the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Puzzled as to who would be at the door on Mother’s Day, I answered it and discovered it was a Federal Express delivery. There was a package for me, from Shari’s Berries.  My heart skipped a beat. Chocolate-covered strawberries! Sent to me by Shannon, who when she called to wish me a happy Mother’s Day, admitted she was a little blue not to be here, and she wanted me to have something sweet. While chocolate-covered strawberries could never take Shannon’s place, I will admit they were a sweet consolation. Shari’s Berries makes wonderful chocolate-covered strawberries, with berries that are so sweet and ripe. A real treat.

I also want to add that from each daughter, I received a gift certificate to a local greenhouse. Another perfect gift as they know how much I love flowers.

Because the day was rainy, Clif and I decided to go to Railroad Square in Waterville to see a movie—The Congressman with Treat Williams.  This amiable movie is about, well, a Maine congressman, Charlie Winship, who doesn’t stand during the pledge of allegiance—he was busy doing paperwork—and the ensuing brouhaha . The Congressman was actually filmed in Maine, much of it on beautiful Monhegan Island, where WInship goes to help settle a fishing dispute. This might sound like an odd thing to praise, but indeed most movies and television series set in Maine are not filmed here, and boy oh boy it doesn’t take Mainers long to figure this out.

While The Congressman examines serious issues—free speech, the undue influence of lobbyists and the right wing as well as the overfishing of the ocean—this movie skims the surface the way rocks skip over water in a pond. Treat Williams is a very appealing actor, and he had his Jimmy Stewart moment when he expanded on freedom of speech. Heck, he even quoted Margaret Chase Smith, a beloved Maine senator who stood up to the bully Joseph McCarthy. But nothing really seemed at stake in this predictable movie. Nevertheless, both Clif and I enjoyed it, and so, it seems, did many other people—the large cinema was three-quarters full. After all, predictable isn’t always bad.

When we got home, there was one more treat in store—crab salad sandwiches and hand-cut fries. I was so eager to eat this supper that I forgot to take a picture, but, readers, let me assure you, the sandwich and fries were pretty darned good.

So even though both girls live too far to celebrate Mother’s Day with me, all in all, it was a nice Mother’s Day.

At the little house in the big woods, the excitement just never ends. Yesterday, Clif and I came up with an idea that was so brilliant we could hardly stop congratulating ourselves. After thirty-nine years of marriage, we discovered…drum roll, please…that we could actually make our very own nutty, crunchy mix at a fraction of the cost of buying it prepackaged.

I know. This sounds like an April Fool’s Day joke, but honest to gory, Clif and I actually did the snack equivalent of reinventing the wheel. Let’s just say that we could never be accused of being fast learners.

The proof is in the picture, and here it is.

For the price of one container of this snack at Target, we bought all the ingredients, which made a very large bowl of crunchy goodness. There is enough left of everything for another bowl with the same amount. We used peanuts, pretzels, and little wheat sticks. Obviously, other goodies could be added—Chex cereal, little rice crackers, almonds, cashews. The list goes on and on.

Our friends Alice and Joel came over for movie night, and we served this snack as an appetizer. Alice and Joel gave us the best praise they could by eagerly digging in. By the time the pizza was ready, there was just a wee bit left in the bowl. I promised our friends that this mix would be served at future gatherings, especially on the patio during the summer.

Movie night has come to mean pizza night, and I know this is bragging, but Clif has developed a very good hand with dough. He knows just how to stretch and flour it so that the pizza is chewy and satisfying. Last night’s pizza was topped with turkey pepperoni, chunks of sweet red pepper, and slices of mushroom. Clif also uses a blend of cheese—cheddar, mozzarella, and Parmesan.

Settling in the living room with our pizza and Alice’s tasty endive-stuffed salad, we watched Diva, a quirky French movie made in the early 1980s. IMDb’s description of this movie is so concise and snappy that I decided I could do no better:  “Two tapes, two Parisian mob killers, one corrupt policeman, an opera fan, a teenage thief, and the coolest philosopher ever filmed. All these characters twist their way through an intricate and stylish French language thriller. ”

The only thing I can add to this is that the movie has aged well and doesn’t seem terribly dated. Oh, and the Diva has a magnificent voice that positively soars. One more thing: Diva gets a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. If you haven’t seen this movie, then put it on your watch list.

After the movie, we had warm apple crisp and vanilla ice cream. We discussed the movie and the problems of the world.

A new snack, pizza and salad, a good movie, and apple crisp.

What a way to end March.

Last night was movie night at the little house in the big woods, where we were joined by three friends—Alice and Joel and Diane—to watch and discuss a movie. Last night was Alice’s turn to choose, and she picked Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding.

The movie came out in 2001, and this was a second viewing for all of us.  Alice and Joel told of how they saw Monsoon Wedding for the first time at the Toronto Film Festival, right after the terrorist attacks on September 11. A joyous, bright film about an arranged marriage in India, Monsoon Wedding was just what Alice and Joel needed to see after the terrible attacks. (Can fifteen years have really passed since that dreadful day? We had a daughter living in New York City and another one living in Washington, DC. It is a day Clif and I will not forget.)

But back to movie night. Clif made two of his delectable pizzas. We always mean to get a picture of them, but somehow, between the rush to eat and watch the movie, we never do.

We were more on top of things with the beautiful dessert—a pumpkin roll—that Alice made. As soon I saw that roll, I knew it should have its picture taken.

I am happy to report that the pumpkin roll tasted just as good as it looked. After watching Monsoon Wedding, we had coffee, tea, and pumpkin roll as we discussed the various aspects of the movie—in particular, arranged marriages. While acknowledging there were no guarantees with any marriage, I noted how strange it would be to marry someone you had never met or seen.

“Different customs for different cultures,” Diane observed, and how right she is.

We can be grateful to movies and books (and blogs!) that bring us glimpses of other cultures. They remind us that the world is full of diversity, and they enlarge our perspective, which is always a good thing.

Yesterday, Clif and I took the afternoon off and headed to Brunswick for a movie and gelato. We had a gift certificate for each event, which meant that except for the gas, the outing was free—our favorite price.

Brunswick has an arty downtown filled with cafés and restaurants and various other shops. While it’s fun to walk on the sidewalks and look at the window displays, crossing the street is another matter. For some inexplicable reason, four lanes go through the downtown, and getting across them can feel like a heroic effort. There is only one spot with a sort of island and a walk signal to help pedestrians cross. Otherwise, it’s just a crosswalk. Hoping that cars will see you and therefore stop, you hold your breath as you scurry across the road.

But Clif and I made it safely across the road to Eveningstar Cinema, which shows independent films. We went to see Youth, directed by Paolo Sorrentino, who seems to be Fellini’s artistic, if not actual, heir. Odd characters are liberally sprinkled throughout this film—a grotesquely obese former sports star; a masseuse with jug ears, braces, and a rodent-like face; an expressionless woman who makes giant soap bubbles for the evening’s entertainment.

Youth is set in a resort in the Swiss Alps, and the resort is frequented by the weary one percent, who all appear as though they are about to die of ennui. Somehow, though, despite the the odd characters and the stylized and often surreal look of the film, Youth is a moving exploration of old age and the regret and diminishment that come with it.  At the center of the story are Fred Ballinger, a composer, and Mick Boyle, a movie director. They are played respectively, and wonderfully, by Michael Caine and Harvey Keitel, who in real life do not at all seem to be diminished by age.

The esoteric Youth is not what I would call a crowd pleaser—although there were plenty of people who came to see it on a Wednesday afternoon at 1:30—but both Clif and I are admirers of this director, who manages to combine surrealism with deep emotion, not an easy trick.

After the movie, we again courted death by crossing the main street to have gelato at the incomparable Gelato Fiasco, where we both had hazelnut and chocolate. So very good.

Since December, the days have gotten longer, and we were able to make it home before dark. The older I get, the more I like this, especially during the winter.

The afternoon had been sunny and fifty degrees warmer than it was on Sunday. What a wild swing! However, this meant the house was warm, and there were still coals in the wood furnace. Clif had no problem restarting the fire.

For our supper we had chili on baked potatoes—I keep cans of chili in the pantry for just such an occasion, when we are out and about and want an easy meal to fix when we come home. A cozy, hearty supper after a good afternoon in Brunswick.