Wednesday, Actually

Thanks to all for your comments yesterday. You’re appreciated more than you’ll ever know.

Today I met my freelance deadline, I shopped for the ingredients to make green bean casserole and roasted veggies, and I sat on the couch and watched Love, Actually. (I always fall asleep during the same part of the movie. Today was no exception. I still have no idea if the married guy cheated on his wife with his cute-haired co-worker.)

This scene gets me every time.

And this scene destroys me.

And although I know I’ve shared this before, I just sort of need you to know that it’s one of my favorite movie scenes from all time. (You may want to switch it to full screen so you can read the subtitles. If you’re anything like me, you won’t be able to see them properly here.)

I hope your Wednesday has been a good one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

9 thoughts on “Wednesday, Actually”

  1. Love Actually is one of my FAVORITE movies. You’ll love this: I didn’t even go to the piercing place. Billy said he’ll help me – this’ll be interesting.

  2. 2 of my favorites! I can’t wait til my girls are old enough for Amelie, but I feel right now I would have to do too much explaining

  3. Actually, Wednesday (here) turned out to include considerable suckage. Ultimately though, more important than my feelings about the lady in front of me where I went (to a grocery store the night before Thanksgiving — aieeee!) to pick up cilantro for my son (who has miraculously tapped into the inner recesses of his gene pool and become an excellent chef) and who was buying 12 bottles of Martinelli cider…one…by…one (that would be as individual transactions…separate receipts…separate credit card swipes…because she was using 12 coupons on a “one per visit” basis and bullied the poor cashier into not making her exit the store and return 12 separate times) is the fact that my son was getting around to starting his cooking quite late because he and our daughter-in-law spent 4 hours at the ER today being tended to for her ongoing mid-pregnancy complications and were *very* grateful that things settled down enough for them to come home instead of her having to be admitted. So, like you said yesterday, all’s well that ends well, and tomorrow, indeed is another day. “Ready Availability of Good Medical Care” is very high on my personal list of things for which we will assuredly be giving thanks!

    Also (and Fellow Reader Grammy will relate well to this) helping my son cook? Priceless!

  4. Ah, yes, Carroll, it is a wonderful thing. Here’s the deal — I began teaching my son to cook before his first birthday. Pull the high chair up to the counter and let him dump the dry ingredient(s) in a bowl, let him attempt to stir with a wooden spoon, etc. By the age of 8 he was planning and preparing full meals. Then he grew up to be a chef. Now he teaches me cool things in the kitchen.

    My daughter would rather hang out of a tenth-floor window than cook. Her adolescence was spent with one or both of us weeping in the kitchen each week because I am the meanest person in the world and kept trying to teach her the basics so she could feed herself. I failed at that, but she married a guy who can put together a decent meal and her son loves to come to my house and help me cook things. So, she’ll never starve.

    I’m thankful that both my kids turned out just the way they are. Different strokes.

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