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Sunday, February 28, 2010
A Brit a Day [#24]
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Saturday, February 27, 2010
A Brit a Day [#23]
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
A Brit a Day [#21]
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
A Brit a Day [#20]
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Labels:
brit a day,
lives of others,
music,
work in progress
Calling Guest Readers
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1] Henry Ian Cusick--top honors, of course
2] Prime Minister Gordon Brown
3] Billy Connelly--as in 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'
4] Graham Nash--ok, I know he's not Scottish, but I have an ulterior motive for listing his name here
5] Craig Ferguson--he's a little scary, so I might not let him sit on the bed.
6] Ewan MacGregor
7] Professor Angus MacIntyre, my senior-year math advisor from college
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
A Brit a Day [#18]
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A Brit a Day [#17]
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A Brit a Day [#16]
Monday, February 22, 2010
A Brit a Day [#15]
A Brit a Day [#14]
We're behind; we need more gorgeous men--and I have oodles of them to post.
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A Brit a Day [#13]
Like AC/DC, I'm Back in Black
Look at me! I'm a PC and I have Windows 7 and it only took me a week to figure out how to get on the internet.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
A Brit a Day [#12]
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Diltz's years photographing Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young were the same as my years of dreaming about Graham Nash and the big couch in the mansion in southern California, a place I would land in about 20 years. My couch isn't Victorian and my house is no mansion, but I got the most important part right--love, family, and a home in southern California.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
A Brit a Day [#11]
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Hadrian's Wall--part 2
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the floor and a doctor was kneeling beside me, looking purposefully into my eyes, one at a time. Between him and the nurse and another girl who wore a sweatshirt under her scrubs, they got my limbs untangled and began to assess the damage.
The doctor lifted me in his arms and put me on an exam table in the big room. "How's your head?" he asked.
"It's my arm," I said softly, and tried to extract my arm from the bloody pocket now resting on my stomach.
"Yes, I see," he said, "but I'm trying to see if you're concussed from the fall."
"My head doesn't hurt," I said. "I don't remember it ever hitting the floor."
The girl in scrubs brought over a tray, and they began cleaning my arm. The doctor said I needed some stitches and went to a cabinet across the room to get supplies. With his back to me, he asked me how I hurt my arm, and I told him. When he came back he asked, "When was your last tetanus shot?"
"I don't know. Childhood, I guess."
He looked to the nurse who had come in, but he spoke to me. "Let's get your name and we'll check your file."
"It won't be in there, " I said. "I didn't know the answer when I filled out my health form freshman year."
"Then let's just start with your name." He smiled. The nurse handed him a clipboard with forms on it.
"Opal Solomon." He wrote that on his clipboard. I asked, "What's your name?"
"Dr. Forester." He smiled again, a little awkwardly. "Ethan Forester." He had kind eyes. He was young and had that soft, empathic look that young doctors have. When he turned to give the clipboard to the nurse, I missed the eyes and their warmth immediately.
...to be continued....
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
A Brit a Day [#10]
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Alex Turner is the lead singer and lyrical genius behind 'The Arctic Monkeys'. Upon hearing the AM's debut album 'Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not,' I told my husband that the English language just lays down at Alex's feet and does what ever he tells it too. Effortless rhymes in perfectly complex cadences. Alex was at most 18 when he wrote the songs on that first album. Like me, Sean became a huge fan, in fact we are a family of fans. We took my daughter to her first rock show last fall when the AM's were in town.
Monday, February 8, 2010
A Brit a Day [#9]
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And since it's Monday, and since "A Brit A Day" is sooo far behind, I thought we could use 360 degrees of Alan Rickman, too.
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Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Hadrian's Wall--part 1
I was pretty sure I was overdue for a tetanus shot. And maybe I needed stitches.
It was amazing what medical services you could get for free at the university infirmary in 1983. The weekend before Christmas that year I was locked out of the dorm. I found a first-floor window unlocked and was hoisting myself in when i got a good sized gash on my forearm from a rusty nail in the window sill.
The cold New England air sure made my arm sting as I walked to Student Health. Most of the students were gone for the holiday, and so that evening seemed to fall particularly hard and fast with no lighted windows in the campus buildings to cushion the feeling of being completely on my own. I tucked my bleeding arm into the kangaroo pouch of my Yale sweatshirt, and by the time I walked through the glass doors of the infirmary, the blood had soaked through making the navy fabric turn glossy blue violet.
The infirmary was understaffed because of the break, I guessed, but there seemed to be no other patients either. No one was in the reception cubicle; then a nurse came out of the big common treatment room that lay behind the front desk. Her eyes widened. I think that's where I fainted.
to be continued.....
It was amazing what medical services you could get for free at the university infirmary in 1983. The weekend before Christmas that year I was locked out of the dorm. I found a first-floor window unlocked and was hoisting myself in when i got a good sized gash on my forearm from a rusty nail in the window sill.
The cold New England air sure made my arm sting as I walked to Student Health. Most of the students were gone for the holiday, and so that evening seemed to fall particularly hard and fast with no lighted windows in the campus buildings to cushion the feeling of being completely on my own. I tucked my bleeding arm into the kangaroo pouch of my Yale sweatshirt, and by the time I walked through the glass doors of the infirmary, the blood had soaked through making the navy fabric turn glossy blue violet.
The infirmary was understaffed because of the break, I guessed, but there seemed to be no other patients either. No one was in the reception cubicle; then a nurse came out of the big common treatment room that lay behind the front desk. Her eyes widened. I think that's where I fainted.
to be continued.....
plan A--pictures; plan B--words
I had the best of intentions when I started 'A Brit A Day' that I would post every day. I certainly have the ammunition, hundreds of pictures of gorgeous British men. Then my computer crashed, my computer with my jpegs. Only through the courtesy of my 14-year-old daughter am I able to get online at all, using her laptop, and I promised her and myself that I wouldn't upload any files to her computer or download any stuff from the internet.
So without pictures, I suppose I'll have to write something. So here goes, my newest short story...
So without pictures, I suppose I'll have to write something. So here goes, my newest short story...
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