Oh, oh...the ice trucks cometh. 

Figures. The one day I have to drive this week.

Be safe, everyone.

Happy holidays!

“For sale: baby Shoes, never worn.”

--Ernest Hemingway

Please Join Us for 

A Free Stage Reading of

Four One-Act Plays

Penned by New Hampshire Playwrights

Donald Tongue, Lowell Williams,

John Sefel, & Dana Biscotti Myskowski

Sunday, Dec. 19, 2 p.m.

Greenroom of the

Adams Memorial Opera House

Derry, New Hampshire

Sponsored by theatre KAPOW

“According to legend, in 1923 Ernest Hemingway made a bet in a bar that he could write a complete and compelling story using just six words.  He then scribbled on a napkin the six words: "For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn."  With that, the legend goes, he won the bet and would later refer to that simple story as his greatest work.

“This season, theatre KAPOW will present four brand new short plays based on Hemingway’s powerful six-word story. … Staged readings in the fall will culminate in a workshop production in the spring.”

--From theatre KAPOW’s website

Communing with Old Growth Trees as Old as Our Young Country

"The Lightning Bolt"
The tallest of the dozen or so old growth 
pines have lightning rods installed.

Joined my husband today on a hike through an Old Growth Forest Stand in nearby Bradford, New Hampshire. The pines are located on five state-owned acres just off Route 103; there's a parking area in a pull-off near the intersection that heads into downtown.

"Theodore," a name that
just seemed to fit this
pine, stands alone from
the rest of the trees.
When you visit,
say hi for me. 

A short trail takes hikers to a grouping of the first few trees where the tallest wears not just one, but two lightning-rod cables. Continuing further along the trail takes nature lovers to the corner of the property where the trail bends to the right and leads to what may be the largest of the trees. The lonely pine, separated as it is from the group, is also adorned with a lightning rod and cable that extends into the dirt at its roots. 

It's a beautiful spot along a lazy stream. An easy walk that would make an excellent hike for children and grandparents alike.

Granite SoFFA Launches!

And Lunches.

The four of us have a tendency to meet over food. Go figure. :)

And so we are planning the first *official* Granite SoFFA Social - the gathering of New Hampshire (and surrounding areas) Society of Female Film Artists (and of Female Film Lovers...oh, and of people [including males] who support or enjoy hanging out with female film artists!). It will be either Friday or Saturday evening of the NH Film Festival weekend. At Foobar in downtown Portsmouth, which is one of the many venues of the fabulous NH Film Festival. (Exact times and day TBA. Soon.)

The four of us chatted after a Red River Movie event featuring DEAF PERCEPTION (Awesome flick!) and MITO KIDS (Important and GREAT film!). A couple of us had, in the past decade or so, moved to New Hampshire and joined the Women in Film in New England group, but found that most of the events centered around Boston. And while we each of us managed to drive to Boston for a few of the events, we all craved the support of women in film in our own state.

And so was born the idea for Granite SoFFA - the NH Society of Female Film Artists.

We're a group centered around fun. And commiseration. And an understanding of what it takes to pursue this line of "work" (or volunteer gigs) that we love so much. And we hope that others will feel as compelled as we do to hang out together occasionally - to share, to bitch, to boast, to laugh, to drink, to eat, to connect....

And over the next few years, stars willing, maybe we'll all be working together on each other's films. Because that's where we're most at home, isn't it? On set and in the theatre. We can dream, can't we? So why not dream BIG!

Hope you'll join us for a Social gathering of the Granite SoFFA soon. And share your thoughts in the meantime. Be well. And may you enjoy the movies!

I'm stressed. You only have to enter my house to know that. The smells of barbeque chicken in the crockpot are enough to make even a vegetarian salivate. I can't help myself. I cook when I'm stressed. I don't eat though, so my family will have to take care of that part of the equation.

I have a second crockpot filled with root veges and I'm peeling potatoes for a vat of mashed (those I WILL eat).


I picked a bushel of apples with my daughter this morning that will become numerous canned jars of applesauce, a couple pies, and an apple cake. I have pie pumpkins that look adorable on my windowsill, but which will not escape my wrath as I seek to chop, squish, and puree the life out of as many foods as possible today.

And I'm planning a pork loin for tomorrow, which I will begin by marinading today.

Then there's the ice cream. I love making ice cream, but when I'm stressed I especially like it. Of course the electric whirring of the blade isn't nearly as satisfying as the hand crank I get to help with when visiting friends at their camp north of the lakes region.

I'm brewing ginger green tea. Three pots. And coffee, but I'll drink that as I work. And I noticed there might some more broccoli to harvest. Maybe I'll make a wholewheat pizza with that and my spices that are overgrowing the garden beds this time of year.

Of course, no stress-induced cooking would be complete without a chocolate yummy or two. And my ricer is available; perhaps I'll cook up a batch of brown rice for rice pudding later in the weekend. Or I could pair it with the frozen shrimp I've been saving for a special occasion (I think this counts).

Did I mention I'm stressed? I hope to be exhausted later. Otherwise I may be cooking long after the sun goes down.

You know it's almost autumn when...

I'm making the first applesauce of the season. And we picked our first ripe pumpkins. The squash is almost gone. The yellow finches are losing their brilliant mating hue. The chickadees are stopping by our feeders on their way south. The geese congregate in the nearby fields and ponds as they, too, wing toward warmer winter climates. And...we return to school.

It's the end of an awesome long holiday weekend. And the end to summer. Bittersweet perhaps, but the sweet scent of cinnamon and apples is worth celebrating.

Weird. For about a month and a half I could not add a new blog post to this, my original blog. Now that I can, I am faced with the question: do I remove Poetry in Motion Pictures, Take Two, or do I finally launch my "How to Write Screenplays" blog at my Take Two site, and reserve this blog for posts of a more varied nature?

And in asking the question, I've answered it.

So as of this moment, right now, (and hoping, trusting that I can continue to post new blogs on this original site) I officially announce to all two of my readers that Poetry in Motion Pictures [the original] is my personal blog site, while Poetry in Motion Pictures, Take Two, shall be my "How to Write Screenplays" site.

And while you may be asking yourself why you're still reading this rather redundant post, you can thank the ever-changing role of the internet in my life (in all our lives, perhaps) and a small book by David Meerman Scott that I use in teaching my Media Writing classes at the University of New Hampshire: The New Rules of Marketing & PR. If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor and read it. Soon.