Mona Lisa, Neon Moon and I went to the Broadway Market this morning for our Easter purchases of a butter lamb, pussy willows and rye bread. I love the market. It was really bustling and the smells of hyacinths, lilies, sausage and chocolate are one of the world’s best perfumes! IMHO.

I continue to watch and listen to the news with sadness, disgust and disbelief. How can we be in this position? I wake up every morning to the news and the latest body counts. It reminds me of Vietnam. I remember being a kid, being a teenager, watching the nightly news, seeing the death and devastation and asking why. Now, as an adult, I am still asking and still not getting any answers. This, courtesy of Bruce Jackson, hits a nerve. We can’t let this guy and his lying cronies keep running our country into the ground. Literally.

Last night, admidst howls of protest, we watched Second Hand Lions. What a good movie! The cast was great—Robert Duvall, who I love, and Michael Caine, who is required to participate in every movie made. Why didn’t this one win any awards? Dey was robbed. Ok, robbed by elves is not such a bad thing but still. Even those who initially scoffed--that would be everyone but me--enjoyed it.

As Mona Lisa was babysitting and it was my turn to wait up, I had an exclusive second feature of super 8 old home movies transferred to dvd. It was interesting, and an interesting contrast. The thing that always strikes me when I look at them is how young the grownups were, my parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, many of them now gone. For all that we have taken oceans of photos of our children, I am sorry that they will not have a similar opportunity when they are older to see those of us who are the current grownups in their lives as the young folk we are, even though we are already ancient in their eyes. There is something about film that makes things so real, still a moment in time, but a more dynamic moment, more natural, more immediate, more complete. If only there was a way to capture and share the aroma of this grandmother’s apple pie and the taste of that one’s lasagna. As it is, the ability to watch the laughter and the interaction makes it much more than a whole lot of bye-bye.