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Who was Cassandra?


  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.

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December 25, 2010

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I realize how fortunate any child is who has a majority of moments that actually are carefree, happy, and healthy.
Yeah. Hoping we can keep things that way for my niece for at least a few more years.

Merry Christmas, Beth, and my best to J.

Sometimes I wonder if having a very happy childhood is such a good thing, after all: I have very little sense of loss, or of going forward into a lesser life, whereas many people I know who had happier childhoods do feel that way. But I don't know if my sample's large enough to be significant :-)

Anyway, Merry Christmas to you & Jon, & may the new year be full of blessings!

That is a wonderful drawing. Your style would be so perfect for children's books. I just love it, and the cheerful Santa too.

Your drawing is beautiful! A piece of your life shared.

Even a day late, reading your thoughts, let me know I am not alone in my perceptions of life as I age. Well said, with courage and hope, but able to acknowledge how it once was.

I enjoy my visits and often your posts strike a cord and I am off to study it out, write about it, or think deeply. It is good to know you in this new land we travel.

Blessings.

If Christmas means anything anymore, surely it's that: remembering and acknowledging that we're all part of the same family, and that it's still better to give than to receive.

Amen and amen!

I'm with you on these mid-winter thoughts on the passing of time and the gradual relinquishing of the things we once took for granted. Childhood nostalgia is a bitter-sweet thing, as indeed is any nostalgia where we wander back to a moment frozen in amber. Anything that does not move is either lifeless, or dead. Whatever the future holds, moving feels better than not. But it's good when the ageing process is tempered with acquired wisdom, and frankly I'm happy with the trade-off. Losing the things of youth is an inevitable process. While there is much to regret in that, I don't miss the crippling shyness, the trepidation about an unknown future, the sexual confusion and the agonies of the heart.

Peter sprang a surprise on me for Christmas day. A recently issued boxed-set of a children's TV series I appeared in when I was a teenager. I'd never watched myself on-screen when I was a young actor. Couldn't bear it then and can't bear it now. But the moment was un-put-offable, and so on Christmas night we sat down and watched the fifteen or sixteen year old me being an Edwardian toff in coat-tails and straw boater. Now there's a good starting point for excavating the memories of an almost forgotten past. Peter kept saying "Do you remember saying those lines... do you recall doing that stunt... do you know where that was filmed... is any of this familiar?" And the answer in all cases was "No. I remember none of this. It's as though I'm watching something I've never seen before." How can that be?

Enjoy the rest of the holiday Beth, and a Happy New Year to you and your dear ones.

I've been busy, and I'm behind...just reading this tonight for the first time. So glad to know you all of the time, but especially during these frantic holidays. Your posts always slow me down and make me think.

Love the picture. I hope your holidays have been lovely, Beth.

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