The first movie ever filmed in CinemaScope, The Robe was nominated for five Academy Awards in 1953, including Best Picture and Best Actor for Richard Burton. Burton stars as Marcellus Gallio, the Roman centurion charged with overseeing the crucifixion. But when he wins Christ's robe in a gambling game at the foot of the cross, his life is changed forever.
Its inspired story set to a spectacular score, and featuring an all-star cast, including Victor Mature and Jean Simmons, The Robe remains one of the screen's greatest biblical epics.
Happy Easter!!!!!
Jelly beans, Peeps, chocolate bunnies and the robe? I mean "the Robe", the movie. When I was a little girl the only egg hunt I ever did was in our apartment, but I'll never forget my mom and "The Robe".
Our family never watched that much tv, but I clearly remember my Mom's teasing when I would ask her "Is The Robe on yet?" I guess that's when I first learned about double meanings. She would get the biggest kick out of tell me "No, the robe isn't on yet, see?" and of course she would pull at her housecoat to show me. I would explain what I meant and the next time I asked she would do it again. Eventually I would be giggling and trying to explain through my laughter and she would try to keep a serious face and keep playing with me that "the robe isn't on, can't you see?" Boy, do I miss that age of innocence. I was too young to tell time, but I'm not sure how old I was, I'll ask her tomorrow; she has a great memory.
My mom was (is) amazing!!!!! We all (6 of us!!) had beautiful baskets filled with candy from the Easter bunny and I don't know how she did it because we really didn't have money, at least not for splurges.
Next it was off to Church, we all had Easter bonnets, spring coats (as we used to call them), pretty dresses, meticulously pressed, ankle socks with white lace trim, white patent leather shoes, white gloves, curls in our hair (nothing overdone, just a simple ribbon tied around what she called a half ponytail, and of course... frilly panties. That was special fancy underwear to be worn over your normal undies incase your dress blew up, or if you were climbing like a monkey and your undies could be seen.... yup, that was me, the tomboy, even on Easter. My Mom might have her hair done (a real rarity for her) and maybe even wear a corsage.
Again, how did she do it???????
Well hats off to you Mom, or "bonnets" off to you, and of course, HAPPY EASTER!!!!!
I love you,
Sheila
xoxoxoxo
ps - Is The Robe on yet?
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I love a parade!
Sorry I haven't posted lately, I was sick :(. Feeling better now, thank God.
Well tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and I am very excited. I've only made it to the parade in New York once in the last decade, and I'm going tomorrow. The forecast is 60 degrees and sunny YAY!!!!
My parents were both born and raised in Ireland, making me 1st generation American. For little girls whose parents are from Ireland, taking tap dance and ballet lessons aren't the norm, and frankly weren't on our radar either. Naturally, we all took Irish dancing, but we never gave it much thought, and thankfully, we really loved it.
I danced from the time I was 5 until I was 14. My mom tried to start me at 4, but I wasn't ready to stay in line and listen.... OMG, I'm still the same!
Anyway, this is a short one, but I'll follow up with a St. Pat's Day report.
Take apeak at this.... very cool
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxQrWey4Qsw
nils lofgren on accordion, gets the crowd singing “fields of athenry”
just prior to bruce springsteen beginning “no surrender”
july 12, 2009 LIVE in dublin
If you have an extra minute, check out youtube Stavros Flatly Audition Britain's Got Talent. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tu0PAbW75A
TOO FUNNY.
Have a great day,
Sheila
Well tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and I am very excited. I've only made it to the parade in New York once in the last decade, and I'm going tomorrow. The forecast is 60 degrees and sunny YAY!!!!
My parents were both born and raised in Ireland, making me 1st generation American. For little girls whose parents are from Ireland, taking tap dance and ballet lessons aren't the norm, and frankly weren't on our radar either. Naturally, we all took Irish dancing, but we never gave it much thought, and thankfully, we really loved it.
I danced from the time I was 5 until I was 14. My mom tried to start me at 4, but I wasn't ready to stay in line and listen.... OMG, I'm still the same!
Anyway, this is a short one, but I'll follow up with a St. Pat's Day report.
Take apeak at this.... very cool
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxQrWey4Qsw
nils lofgren on accordion, gets the crowd singing “fields of athenry”
just prior to bruce springsteen beginning “no surrender”
july 12, 2009 LIVE in dublin
If you have an extra minute, check out youtube Stavros Flatly Audition Britain's Got Talent. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tu0PAbW75A
TOO FUNNY.
Have a great day,
Sheila
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Always, a Mom
I'm finally beginning to understand my mom. I mean really understand her. Well she's matured alot since I was a teenager, so it's easier for us to communicate now.
Often I tease her that she could find something to worry about, if nothing too troubling was already going on. That's a tall order for our family, nothing to worry about that is, there's 21 of us.
My mom was blessed (or cursed I suppose, ha ha) with 6 children. The girls were all born 1st; 5 of them. You read right... 5 baby girls in a row!!! Now, if you were paying attention when I said she had 6 children, then you got it... the baby was a boy. We (my siblings & I) claim that's why there's 6 of us, not 7. But, she swears it had nothing to do with finally "getting that boy".
Well, the first 5 of us were born in less than 7 years! That's alot of teenage girls to be raising in the '70s and '80s. Now put your calculator away.... I am 29 years old and so are all my sisters..... in fact my mom is 29 too.
Oh, now there are grandchildren too, which to her delight allows more opportunity for worry... you know what I mean.
RELAX! I'm just kidding...
Truth be told, I'm turning out to be alot more like her than I thought I would....but that's a blog of a different color... or for a different time.
OK, so where was I? Oh yes, I'm finally beginning to understand my mom.
You see, it's easier when they are babies. We don't believe it, but it is. I used to look at older women like they were nuts when they would see me with my little ones and say things like "enjoy them, these are the easy times, wait till they're older... then you'll really have your hands full." I figured they were glorifying the cute stuff and forgetting the vomit, sleepless nights, cutting teeth.... etc. Back then I thought life would be great, after diapers, formula, etc. So silly of me.
Nanas, as she's lovingly called by children, grandchildren and now loads of family friends, is still a mom. My older kids are now in their 20s, and of course I'm still a mom, and surprise... a worrier. Nothing over-the-top, and it turns out my mom's worry isn't over-the-top either, just the usual. It's sometimes the same as when they were little, yet somehow very different. I know that doesn't make any sense, and I kind of think that's the point.
When they are little we make sure their food isn't too hot, their shoes aren't too big (don't want them to trip), dress them warmly, see that they get their homework done, study for tests, make good choices, respect others, respect themselves, get proper rest, and so on. We take care of them when they are sick, hurt, sad, lonely......we worry whether or not they are happy.
It's no different when they are older, except now their problems can't be fixed with a popsicle.
Well, in spite of the good, the bad and the ugly, I'm so glad I'm a mom. There has never been a job that has given me 1% of the job satisfaction I have from being a mom. I'm sure my kids don't always feel that way, like when my halo is in the bottom of a closet (rusted and dinged), or when my "Mom of the Year" subscription doesn't reach the mailbox cause I've been deleted from their list.
The good news is, when needed, the red cape still comes out, & SUPER MOM gets to work.
Thankfully I've been trained by the best, Super Nanas.
And let's face it, I'm nothing without my sidekick, SUPER DAD.
Chris, Brian, Bill & Joe, thanks for making me Mom.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Often I tease her that she could find something to worry about, if nothing too troubling was already going on. That's a tall order for our family, nothing to worry about that is, there's 21 of us.
My mom was blessed (or cursed I suppose, ha ha) with 6 children. The girls were all born 1st; 5 of them. You read right... 5 baby girls in a row!!! Now, if you were paying attention when I said she had 6 children, then you got it... the baby was a boy. We (my siblings & I) claim that's why there's 6 of us, not 7. But, she swears it had nothing to do with finally "getting that boy".
Well, the first 5 of us were born in less than 7 years! That's alot of teenage girls to be raising in the '70s and '80s. Now put your calculator away.... I am 29 years old and so are all my sisters..... in fact my mom is 29 too.
Oh, now there are grandchildren too, which to her delight allows more opportunity for worry... you know what I mean.
RELAX! I'm just kidding...
Truth be told, I'm turning out to be alot more like her than I thought I would....but that's a blog of a different color... or for a different time.
OK, so where was I? Oh yes, I'm finally beginning to understand my mom.
You see, it's easier when they are babies. We don't believe it, but it is. I used to look at older women like they were nuts when they would see me with my little ones and say things like "enjoy them, these are the easy times, wait till they're older... then you'll really have your hands full." I figured they were glorifying the cute stuff and forgetting the vomit, sleepless nights, cutting teeth.... etc. Back then I thought life would be great, after diapers, formula, etc. So silly of me.
Nanas, as she's lovingly called by children, grandchildren and now loads of family friends, is still a mom. My older kids are now in their 20s, and of course I'm still a mom, and surprise... a worrier. Nothing over-the-top, and it turns out my mom's worry isn't over-the-top either, just the usual. It's sometimes the same as when they were little, yet somehow very different. I know that doesn't make any sense, and I kind of think that's the point.
When they are little we make sure their food isn't too hot, their shoes aren't too big (don't want them to trip), dress them warmly, see that they get their homework done, study for tests, make good choices, respect others, respect themselves, get proper rest, and so on. We take care of them when they are sick, hurt, sad, lonely......we worry whether or not they are happy.
It's no different when they are older, except now their problems can't be fixed with a popsicle.
Well, in spite of the good, the bad and the ugly, I'm so glad I'm a mom. There has never been a job that has given me 1% of the job satisfaction I have from being a mom. I'm sure my kids don't always feel that way, like when my halo is in the bottom of a closet (rusted and dinged), or when my "Mom of the Year" subscription doesn't reach the mailbox cause I've been deleted from their list.
The good news is, when needed, the red cape still comes out, & SUPER MOM gets to work.
Thankfully I've been trained by the best, Super Nanas.
And let's face it, I'm nothing without my sidekick, SUPER DAD.
Chris, Brian, Bill & Joe, thanks for making me Mom.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
