Adaptations— A primer

ADAPT: to change your behavior so that it is easier to live in a particular place or situation

: to change (something) so that it functions better or is better suited for a purpose

: to change (a movie, book, play, etc.) so that it can be presented in another form

So, this book I love is becoming a TV series tonight (not a movie, not a mini-series, but a full on, 16 episode first season series!) I have had the pleasure of reading the books for over a decade,  seeing the first episode during the last week, and conversing via social media for  the past year with author, costumer and actors…. and you know what?

THEY are right and you may be wrong.

Outlander, the first of at last count an eight big-book series, (with a number of smaller works that go along with them) written by Diana Gabaldon, premieres as a TV show on Starz tonight.  The things that are IMPORTANT will be there. Possibly in a different order. (Patience, young grasshopper!) I have faith in this, because Ron D. Moore tells us his job as show runner is to not mess up his wife Terry’s favorite book.

The things that CAN be done will be done, and things that are important will stay. And if they aren’t still there, well maybe we are the ones who have created something in our heads that isn’t there. Seriously.

   

10559752_10152584443924246_6176897968434202756_n<—-Important bit. Included. (The text actually is NOT from the first episode, but the LOOK, so he can tell Claire this much later in the books, had to be in the first episode. )

As Ansel Adams said, There are always two people in every picture: the photographer and the viewer.

I would think that this is at least as true in the written word. When those words are then translated by hundreds of hard working actors, directors, screenwriters, costumers and set designers, the number of voices and visions might possibly deafen.

Each of us brings to any work of art, indeed, to any aspect of life, the sum total of all of our experiences. Either in the creating of said work, or in the consuming of it. That we have all had different life experiences doesn’t seem odd, and accordingly, our reading of words on a page must be influenced by different things. 

That doesn’t mean that any interpretation on screen is WRONG. It just may be different than what YOU brought to the reading of it and what you took from it.

After a year of having the supreme honor of hovering about the edges of this creative endeavor—following Twitter and Facebook conversations with writers and costumers and actors alike, I have to say that I think they’ve got it in hand. Trust them.

In the 8,000+ pages where he lives, the character Jamie has commented a number of times on his wife Claire’s substantial bottom.  That doesn’t actually mean that Claire’s rear aspect is overly large; indeed it could be read, as I did, as simple pillow-talk and playful behavior between Jamie and Claire. It also has absolutely no importance to the plot. For example, said plump ass never gets stuck in a doorway, blocking access for some thief in the night, which then causes a different outcome. If the big booty in question was required for the story, I’d be sorry to see them not get it right. (If you read the actual physical description of Claire, she is supposed to be about 130 lbs., and shorter than the actress portraying her. Diana Gabaldon put the height issue to bed quickly by suggesting that the only option was to find a less perfect actress or cut Cait’s feet off…)  Perhaps Jamie is simply a fan of Sir Mix-a-Lot?

As it is, I have to say that the ass, as shown, is a lovely round thing and how dare we as viewers denigrate an actor who is willing to bare all for the story? (Odd, isn’t it, to be admiring my ‘friend’ Cait’s backside, huh? I can’t imagine how I will be feeling when I get to see my other ‘friend’ Sam’s ass;– we have been assured he has a fine one, by the author Herself!)

Similarly, Claire’s eye color, a great device in storytelling, didn’t actually accomplish anything other than being a way of description. At no point does the heroine get caught because someone noticed her odd eye color and realized she was skulking about where she didn’t belong, thereby changing the story. Diana writes long books. Gorgeous, evocative description is obviously a part. And the camera is now going to create for us proof of how wonderfully deep and complex Claire may be, Caitrona Balfe’s eye color and butt size be damned.outlander-sam-heughan-caitriona-balfe-tobias-menzies However, Claire-hair WILL stay, and I think that a fine thing and a character of it’s own.

 

8,000 pages, give or take depending on your reading device, and the story isn’t finished. We, the long-time readers, can not continue to nit-pick every utterance or camera angle or choice made while ADAPTING the written word for the visual medium of TV. We are talking about taking one type of art and turning it into another type of art.10382772_10203709921660693_259376560995244149_n

There have to be changes. The medium requires it—We have to be adaptable as well.

It is entirely possible some scene that to you is incredibly important, because of what you brought to the reading of it, may be cut. It is going to happen. What we have to be thankful for is that the over all shape of the story stays. That the intent and love of the story remains intact. We can hope that many more people fall in love with these characters and that that the entire cast and crew remains committed to making a quality product.

We need to adapt because there are 25 million readers who have 25 million life stories, 25 million visions of Jamie, or of the size of Lallybroch or the size of Murtagh in relation to Dougal, or who think Tobias Menzies doesn’t have Frank’s smile.

That for all these years, YOU have considered Jamie Fraser to be the size of Hercules with a Ronald Mc Donald wig on his head in no way makes the color red they came up with for his hair incorrect. If his hair isn’t long enough for your vision, then adjust your vision. This is the character, Jamie Fraser, played by the actor, Sam Heughan.

Filming is almost finished for the first season, so stop complaining, will you? Jamie will be imbued with Sam as much as Sam will be imbued with Jamie.  (By the numbers, Sam is an inch shorter and a few pounds shy of the actual book description, your fantasy man notwithstanding.)

But we’ve already had that Conversation , haven’t we?      Ad infinitum.

There have been some absolutely wonderful reviews of Outlander so far….  Here is Rotten Tomatoes, which catalogs reviews.

Yes, books are different than TV and movies, and usually, the book is better.  And that will probably be the case, overall, here. But I am watching this as a companion to the books, not as a replacement. I can keep in my book world the images I have created and STILL enjoy the visual ADAPTATION immensely.

PS. Yes, young Roger IS in the manse. We just don’t SEE him in the first episode. Did you SEE how big that house is? He’s a tiny boy asleep on a chair, for goodness sake!  Dinna fash, aye?

COMMENTS welcome!!!!

pps, and I am editing as I re-read…..sorry about spelling errors! Dang Auto-correct strikes again!

Interesting reading about the costuming.

A nice review, episode 106, about Adaptation.

 

PIFF

I really need a dandelion right about now. 

With just hours left before Written in My Own Hearts Blood (aka MOBY) book 8 of the Outlander series is published (*Disclaimer—for the majority of readers, as there ARE people who have already received the book, legitimately or via oversight by stores stocking early, and there ARE countries where the book wont come out for a few weeks and…) the self-absorbed, unable-to-accept-an-answer, petulant five-year-old contingent of the internet has come out in some force on some social media sites about Spoilers and Sharing.

Lets just say this about that, shall we? FIRST WORLD PROBLEM10447201_10204512464395576_677531282_nS

I know that the Red Wedding episode in Game of Thrones is bloody and shocking. I haven’t read the books, I am only on season one, but I am not so put off by this information, these “spoilers”,  that I’ve decided to stop watching. I’ve learned, before even starting into the series that really, George RR Martin shouldn’t be your wedding planner, via social media and yet….

Yes, while the overall issue is exposed, the how we get there and the enjoyment of the show isn’t “spoiled”.  I will just be on my toes, so to speak, and know that I shouldn’t become enamored of any character.  I can use Facebook or Twitter, and if I notice that one of my friends threads is “Going there” I just scroll on.  I MAY see a word or two, I MAY read a sentence, I don’t have to absorb and analyze the posts, and I haven’t asked them to stop speaking of the current season because I am three seasons behind them. No brainer. And of course, applying Caveat Emptor, I should stay off of Twitter on Sunday nights if it bothers me.

My Facebook page is non-denominational, if you would. I have a wide variety of friends, who have a wide variety of interests that we share, and they have a wide variety of interests we don’t share.  Almost every post that is put up is a spoiler to SOMETHING if you want it to be.  The topics we discuss, they discuss, (or, more to the point, that Facebook feels I should be allowed to read)  well, they are endless and varying.

I am NOT planning on coming onto FB or Twitter after every Aha Moment and exclaim or carry on—(Diana has assured me she got Jemmy out of the well tunnel. I know, Timmy down the well, Jemmy in the tunnel. I just “hear” Claire exclaim “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I said. “Bloody Timmy’s in the well!” even though that is from ABOSAA)  It’s just not my style, reading has until now been a solitary activity. I may be noticeably missing for a few days. I will not be following or commenting on threads that may get me farther along; I will accept that if I see the trees it doesn’t mean I cant appreciate the forest….

I will scroll down before commenting.  I will honor any policy that is in place, but I will not have a fit if someone doesn’t understand the intricacies of the way a particular site works on a platform they don’t use and they inadvertently share ‘privileged’ information.  Life sucks, yah know?

I have to wonder, seriously, if when people go off the deep end about the small stuff, is it because it is the only part of their spiraling out-of-control life they can manipulate? Is everything else so bad, so out of control that they obsess about things that aren’t worth the energy? The amount of psychic energy that is required to keep up a full-steam frontal attack on something that is truly amounting to nothing is more energy than I have. I am inherently lazy, I guess.

So, I apply empathy, and have to assume that the only reason they would waste 30 miles of gas, and hours of time, three times, to complain about and have the BACK of a picture frame repapered because it didn’t look smooth enough is because the rest of their world is uncontrollable and they need to be able to be in charge of SOMETHING. #Piff!

A Tale with Two Sides…

There is a saying–“There are two sides to every story.”  We tell people to wait to get all the information before forming an opinion.  I recall in high school reading  Dear Abby suggest you write a note, expressing all your frustrations with a person and then instead of stamping and mailing it, tear it up! (more satisfying than the delete button, to be sure.) And then there is the game of Telephone. The internet often reminds me of these things, chat rooms and forums in particular, (but news outlets are getting as sloppy as private people expressing opinions about the widget de jour.)

 

A few weeks ago, on one of the first truly beautiful afternoons of the spring, I decided to eat my lunch in my car.  Eventually, an older woman came to her car which was parked next to mine in the lot. And as she approached her car from behind, she started gesticulating and mumbling to herself. She saw me sitting in my car, windows down, food in hand and just had to point out to me how disrespectful people were nowadays, how this vehicle parked behind her was almost touching her car, tells how he had all that space behind him but he was practically touching her bumper.

Not having a horse in this race, I took another bite of my sandwich, smiled, nodded my head and went on reading my book. She put her bags in her car, locked up and headed off to another store.

A few minutes later, a gentleman wearing a clerical collar unlocked the door of the SUV that was apparently overstepping its bounds and he backed out and left.

Far too quickly my lunch was over, and I got out of my car and headed back to work.

As I passed this ladies car, it turned out that HER bumper was over the center line more than 15 inches.  When she had pulled into the spot and through it, it seems she didn’t use her space appropriately, and so the vehicle coming in behind her had no choice but to get close to her bumper in order to fit into the space.

 

Make the moral of this story what you will.

Happy Birthday, Grandfather Clark!

Birthday cakeWell, OK, in the interest of full disclosure, Great Great Great Grandpa. And of course, as he would be turning 217, he isn’t around to read this, either.

But, of all my ancestors whose lives I’ve poked around in, I feel a certain kinship to Ephraim Clark, MD.

Ephraim was born in Wheatsheaf, New Jersey on March 29, 1797, an only child. I can trace his father back another 7 generations, and go sideways to a variety of cousins, including his second cousin, a Signer of the Declaration.

However, there is something personal about him, something personable, that makes him more to me than notes on a page. 

His handwriting is distinctive. If he wasn’t left-handed, I would be very surprised. That is a pretty rare thing back then!  So, when I am going through those piles of papers that were in my attic as a teen, his were always easy to locate. And as a fellow south-paw, I guess I feel an affinity.

He participated in the Civil War, as a Post Surgeon. (I haven’t done too much actual digging for service records.)

While he was born in New Jersey, he moved to Staten Island as a young man and married into an old Island family. He stayed there till he died at 88 in 1885.

He knew the Vanderbilt’s, he met the Marquis De Lafayette,  and he was one of Aaron Burr’s physicians.  This article was published in 1878 in the New York Times.

It describes a pretty lively 77 year old!

ephraimI have only one photo of him; I assume there are more because during his life time, he seems to often have been where the action was, but I haven’t discovered them. Someday, maybe I will find them at Richmondtown. He is the old man with cataracts on the top left; the gentleman to his right is his son, James. You can read a letter James sent to him, below. Those are his grandsons below him—Fredrick Ephraim and James Guyon.

I have a lot of papers that I rescued from our attic…Here are a few transcriptions.

Nothing earth shattering, just interesting snippets of life. And you will note that children haven’t changed much in the ensuing 200 years, when you read the letter from his son!

 

I am now itching to start to dig through these letters again and to do more on the fleshing out of other members of the family!

 

INDUCTION AS AIDE DE CAMPE
State of New York, Richmond County
I hereby certify, That on the 20th day of January, A.D. 1842 ….constitute Ephraim Clark Aide-de-Camp of the Second Division of Infantry of our said State (with rank form 1st December 1841) …..  Witnefs WILLIAM H. SEWARD, Esquire, Governor of our said State,….
Passed the Adjutant- Generals Office.   (Signed) William H. Seward
(signed) Rufus King? Adjutant-General
(original in possession of Trish Casey No. 19)
***********************************************************************************
REQUEST FOR VACATION MONEY FROM SON
Bellvue Feb. 5, 1846
Dear Pa,
I received your letter  ….I therefore want you to provide me with at least $20 with which to take the trip and spend a couple of days or so.  I deem the recreation necessary to my well being before going to the Small Pox Hospital.
Your son, JG Clark, MD.

DEMOCRATIC DELEGATION (Charleston,)  April 23, 1860

Dear Son
I have but one moment to write – all is confusion  We are just going into battle. Climate warm and beautiful.  We have the best quarters in Charleston.  I wish you were here.  Oh, how you would enjoy it. I never have seen so pretty a place– We live like Nabobs at  a small expense- a servent at every elbow. The Delegations from other states have called on us every hour.  We shall have a hard fight.  Love to Ma. and Etta. I will write tomorrow.  Yours aff. E. Clark
(original in possession of Trish Casey  No.3)

 

foghorn

The blast of the foghorn momentarily distracts me from my reverie. The damp, foggy air only sharpens the smell of “OLD”. It is pervasive, touching everything. It has wrapped itself into the folds of cloth, into the cracks and crevices of boxes and books; it is folded inside letters. Its perfume lingers in old trunks and hangs low from the rafters.

Gingerly, I open a letter. The date– 1823. Quickly scanning it for a familiar name, I refold it and place it on the ever-growling pile on the floor. Its destiny– not neglect or mildew any longer, but a curious strangers’ careful transcription.

A stack of memories builds by my side. Letters forgotten before my grandfathers were born are entrusted to my care. I’m guardian to their memories. They have traveled physically only within the confines of an Island, but over one hundred years later they have journeyed to an attic where they sit waiting for me. Generations separate them from their intended audience.

I read through missives written by people whose names have but the slightest meaning to me. Letters that were written at a time of candlelight and feather pens. They are very formal, with proper and labored wording, even to those with whom they were intimate.

It occurred to me anew as I peered uninvited into these peoples lives and their private thoughts, that this “collecting” spirit is seemingly an inherited trait.

There is a photo of Aunt Genes’ back door hanging on my wall. The door was planed to fit the frame, the paint is peeling, and the door knob is of purple glass. But according to my grandfather, the photo is missing a crucial element– the strings hung with once and twice used tea bags, suspended there to dry.

Last year, Aunt Gene and Uncle Everett had to move to Florida. Cleaning out their home was a distressing experience for them. These two people had spent their lives reusing, recycling and collecting. The ultimate irony became, for them, a painful reality. Mom got the glass jar full of old broken crayons. Those crayons and the coloring books that went with them were old when I was a child. Just a few years ago, my own daughter colored those same pages. Tow five-pound mayo jars full of glorious old buttons were donated to a preschool.

After some cajoling on my part, Aunt Gene gave me a few mismatched antimacassars, and a lace table cloth, crocheted by my great- great grandmother, my great grandmother Miriam or by Aunt Gene her self. Boxes of negatives were rescued from the rubbish pile.

The sum total of nearly 100 years (for her parents lived there before her) was slowly and precisely laid out on the front porch, the front yard, the curbside, and what wasn’t picked over, finally went to Fresh Kills.

It no longer seems odd that my little one has an affinity for paper; for “books” filled with all manner of scribble, crayon drawings, stacked in piles, balance precariously on the tops of toys in her “area”. Her “figures” collection pours over the edge of the large Easter basket put into use to house these treasures. They are each precious to her. None may be discarded.

I can’t walk by a stationary store with out looking. The desire to own these papers is strong. To fold and tuck into an envelope my thoughts and secrets, sealing them inside.

I know now why boxes fascinate me. Small, large, containers of all sorts I collect to hold– what? I have an extra-deep bookcase so that I can perch various momentos and memories in front of the smaller books (mostly volumes rescued from the ravages of various basements)

So many parts and pieces, each with a story. My home is a living overstuffed monument to those who came before me. I am a product of my upbringing.

The Tiffany candy dishes that now grace my tables, were wrapped and carefully tucked away in my grandmothers closet. Every year I discovered them as I searched for evidence of Santa’s early visit.

This inherited trait is the reason that this treasure trove exists. No one could bear to throw things out. It is reassuring to understand why I frantically search through reams of paper for a letter I know exists.

It is just because of a long line of collectors before me. I can’t complain, but only be thankful because I know there were other people in my family who were the same way.

And I feel secure in the knowledge that someone will find that paper I’m looking for– Someday!  <<<<THIS was written a few DECADES ago by me. I’d say 1991…  But it still holds true!

Countdown to SPRING (cleaning)

Yes, I WANT spring.  Desperately.  I am ready! (I will have the most fantastic garden this year, I just KNOW it. And I will love it and weed it and name it George, and by mid May, be over it) BUT.

There is that other part of spring, I’m not a fan of, and that is spring cleaning.  (actually, it is a known fact that I am not a fan of house cleaning on the whole, but that is another story altogether.) I’m sure I can find something to do that is more exciting. Absolutely anything.

“A place for everything and everything in its place” SOUNDS nice, but the practical application leaves much to be desired, as I like having my things out and around and available.  I do love pretty containers, but more often than not, I buy them for the wrong reasons, and they don’t get used the way they should. And, truth be told, while I probably have too much stuff, this house has too little storage. There isn’t even a coat closet, broom closet or mud room area!

My thought this year is to break down the house into manageable chunks, and assign tasks and days, and hopefully be finished by March 21. Then I can spend the vernal equinox trying to balance an egg on its tip in celebration!

photo1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I start on the 4th (I am away on the 1st and 2nd, the 3rd is my birthday and not particularly how I planned on celebrating….) AND I am of course, working 40 hours a week… lets see, thinking out loud here, can’t do it on Mondays, that’s Laylabug day…

Kitchen 4, 5, 6

  • clean out all drawers and cabinets
  • wash curtains, windows, floor
  • clean fan, cabinet doors
  • Refrigerator,-emptied, cleaned
  • stove, microwave

Dining room 7, 8, 9

  • clean out all drawers and cabinets
  • wash curtains, windows, door, floor
  • clean fan, all art

Living room   11, 12

  • Vacuum under/behind furniture
  • Remove rug, put liner down.
  • Vacuum couch, cushions/chair
  • wash curtains, windows, door
  • clean fan, all art
  • China Cabinet
  • Get rid of winter clothes/clutter at door

Den  13, 14

  • Vacuum under/behind furniture
  • Vacuum couch, cushions/chair
  • wash curtains, windows, door
  • clean fan, all art
  • all bookcases and side tables

Bath one 15

  • Under vanity
  • basic deep clean
  • Do linen closet as well

Bath two 16

Under vanity

  • basic deep clean
  • utility area

Bedroom one 18, 19

  • Vacuum under/behind furniture
  • wash curtains, windows
  • clean fan, all art
  • side tables, headboard
  • closet
  • change out clothes
  • dresser

Studio 19, 20, 21  Notice that it is conveniently at the end.

  • Vacuum under/behind furniture
  • wash curtains, windows
  • clean fan, all art
  • closet
  • scrapbook side
  • desk
  • fabric side
  • cutting tablepickerimage2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Anyone interested joining me? Keeping me honest?

 

 

Enough IS Enough

My Word of the year, 2014. 

ENOUGH!  (to see previous years …)

This one showed up a few weeks ago, driving to work.  A quilting group I am part of annually shares the words they want to use as a talisman for their art. And life, as the case may be. As it happens most years, the word of the year chooses me, and I am rarely in the mood for it, or willing to give it access to my entire year, but once rooted, it refuses to allow other words the opportunity to audition for such a lofty spot in my world! And this time, I feel like maybe it needs to be tattooed on my forehead.

Because, really, enough already!  (I feel somewhat successful in last years word, Choose. I did have the foot surgery, I do have a quilt going into MAQS this February…)

if-you-have-food-fridge

Where does the word ENOUGH fall in your life? As the parent hollering “ENOUGH” up the stairs at the children bickering? At the level of stupidity at work, does the word actually mean “Uncle”? I give up, I’ve had ENOUGH, I’m moving on?

Or is it more of a peaceful, comforting hug, reminding you that you have more than ENOUGH to make you happy, if only you allow it?

You know the future’s lookin’ brighter
Every mornin’ when I get up
Don’t be thinkin’ ’bout what’s not enough, now baby
Just be thinkin’ ’bout what we got

Oh-oh, rich man, poor man, now
Really don’t mean all that much
Mama’s always told you, girl
That money can’t buy you love
”  Eddie Money

(Yes, even songs on the radio jump on the “Word of the Year” Bandwagon. Eddie Money, Philosopher. Who knew?)

So, ENOUGH. I, of course, have ENOUGH.

  • ENOUGH food that deciding what to make for dinner is the dilemma.
  • ENOUGH food that I can’t recall the last time I went to bed hungry.
  • ENOUGH money that deciding what restaurant to have dinner at is a question we ask too often.
  • ENOUGH money that we have to decide where we want to go on vacation each year, rather than having to decide which bill we don’t pay this month.
  • ENOUGH heat in our home that I sleep warmly that well, scratch that, I think I could always use another quilt or two on the bed! But I have them to use!
  • ENOUGH clothing that I don’t have to do laundry every third day. (Actually, so much clothing that the laundry seems to be full every third day!)
  • ENOUGH books (blasphemy!) that I could never be bored.
  • ENOUGH fabric to quilt every day of my life, and have to live to a ripe old age before running low. (Although, thread and batting might be needed.)
  • ENOUGH quilting patterns I shouldn’t ever have to duplicate a quilt.
  • ENOUGH creativity to ditch the majority of the patterns I do have, except for inspiration.
  • ENOUGH beads to make jewelry for more people than I know.
  • ENOUGH  cats that Nope, never too many of those.
  • ENOUGH health that most days I get up headache free, and can throw my legs over the edge of the bed with only mild groaning, can do the things I want and need to do with only marginal complaint and pain. And I make it through my day without medication of the life-saving sort. Too many people don’t have that luxury.
  • ENOUGH support from the people around me, who love me as I am, unconditionally, that I can soar!
  • ENOUGH friends and family that my Christmas tree looks dwarfed by presents.20131218-IMG_7550
  • ENOUGH hours in the day to Ok, so this word isn’t all-inclusive, and has limits. But, that sounds like LIFE.
  • ENOUGH love that I feel rich, indeed.

What do do with this word:

Therein lies the issue.  I can easily cut in half the number of clothes I buy. That frees up money spent at thrift stores, and time looking around them. I could easily lighten the load on the closet and the dresser and still have ENOUGH to be suitably attired for whatever comes along.  I can stay out of the quilt shops, and really only buy what is essential to finishing, not something because I must have this fabric. (Don’t fear, Joyce! You KNOW I will be buying!) Don’t see this as a resolution, by the way. I like pretty things!

I think this word is more of the emotional variety.

  • Glass half full and all that.
  • See the positive.
  • Look for the good parts of not continuing to acquire; indeed, looking at what can be removed from life, without creating a sense of denial or punishment.
  • A lot of that is about creativity and about being happy in your own skin and happy in the place you find yourself. 
  • Looking at everything you need to say no to, and realizing all the things you get to say yes to that so many other people couldn’t imagine!
  • Lighting the candle or cursing the darkness.
  • Being upset it isn’t Paris or excited that it is a vacation! 

So, soon will begin the declutter. Again. This time, it needs to be not only of things, but of thoughts. Knowing it’s a WONDERFUL life, just the way it is.  That, indeed, is ENOUGH.

I Wish You Enough– “I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”

(click the link to get the entire story that makes the email rounds)

WHY enough is enough-A woman I used to know as a child wrote this; it doesn’t HAVE to pertain only to Christmas!

September 10th—A busy day.

Looking forward to September 10th.

September 10th is Laylabug’s 2nd birthday. Having her in our lives has been the most wonderful thing!

Seeing her grow so fast (so FAST!) learning to speak, and seeing her personality develop has been just beyond enjoyable….the difference between parenting (when you are so exhausted all the time) and grand parenting is a truth!

20130826-20130826-IMG_5332

But, this year, Sept 10 is also the date that Outlander is rumored to start filming in Scotland.  Well, that’s great and all, you say, but what has it got to do with anything?

Well, it’s like this. I’ve been a fan of this book series for about nine years. (A relative late-comer, the books started being published 20 years ago) Back in the beginning of the year, it was announced it was finally going to be turned into a  TV series on Starz, with Ron Moore at the helm.

Oh, JOY! But. But…What if they GET JAMIE WRONG?  Or CLAIRE? And will it succeed and make it through enough seasons for us to get to Fraser’s Ridge and meet Jem and Mandy and William? And. And. And.

Although I follow Diana Gabaldon on her Facebook page, I started to also follow her on Twitter when they announced they had indeed located Jamie. The actor, Sam Heughan, has been gracious and open and quite fun to get to ‘know’, and like Diana, he appears to be  generous soul.

He has even allowed his name to be used on a site where we are raising funds as Heughligans for a favorite charity of his.

What about Claire? SHE is the story! The narrator! They will have to announce her soon, right? Day after day, week after week, throughout the entire summer, we have been on #Clairewatch2013. It started as a joke, but over the summer, this enforced torture while waiting has become the opportunity for fans of the book to truly bond and make friendships. We are all on the same ship, “Impatience”.

I almost don’t want it to end.

It is rumored by Sam (that Sam is a great tease on Twitter and knows fully well the value of social media) that tomorrow, we will be introduced to his new friend—Who happens to share a number of physical attributes with Claire.

The generosity of spirit of both Diana Gabaldon (long-suffering creator) and Sam Heughan (newly defined Jamie) and the camaraderie of loyal “bookies” had made this summer special.

The characters in Outlander have been part of our families for years. And the opportunity to get to know both the creator and the actor in some fashion, along with so many like-minded friends has enriched many of us. And I am proud to ‘know’ some wonderful, strong ladies via this interaction and to now call them ‘friend’.

(And of course, September 10th is always the most bittersweet of days, because on September 10th, we all still had our innocence; when I looked at the New York Harbor on September 10, 2001, I didn’t even register the Twin Towers as separate objects, just the skyline that I was going to walk away from in 2002 when I married and moved to Virginia.)

Yes, September 10th is going to be a good day!

PS… I also recall there being talk of the new iPhone announcement that day…and not a day too soon, I am babying my phone right now to make it till then!!!