A delicious mug of Kona coffee is a treat in itself and
keeps me company as I watch Julie and
Julia for the fourth time. This is one of my most favorite movies … portraying
a melancholic woman, Julie, who works in New York fielding insurance calls
after 911 - and is an unpublished writer. Julie feels less accomplished than
all her socialite 30-year-old friends, one of whom “even blogs”. She whines about
this to her husband as they watch Julia Child’s The French Chef. Her husband, distractedly annoyed with her mood, gently
encourages her to start her own blog. She sits straight up on the couch and
after some excited discussion wonders what she could blog about. Julie loves
cooking, adores Julia Child, and decides that the blog will be daily posts
focused on a year of cooking through her book Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Julie’s husband helps her
select a blog site and assists with set-up, she chooses the blog’s name, writes
her introductory entry, clicks the post button, then waits.
Julie and Julia arrived
in theaters in 2009 - I was first in line. A large bag of popcorn in my hand, a
hot cup of coffee, of course; my seat secured … stage center. I was captured,
enraptured and became Julie’s silent and secret apprentice. I laughed and became
weepy when, after all these years, it hit me that Julia Child was dead, not
realizing until that movie moment how much I missed her. Meryl Streep melded
into Julia and was amazing – becoming Julia to me and I held that close to my
heart to bring me out of a threatening sob.
Julia and her husband, Paul, had moved to France for his
work and the couple ate often at French restaurants. She loses the ability to
communicate with words but rather happily moaned when she ate food – cooked in
real butter, a lot of butter. “I feel I am French” she exclaims brightly when
walking through town with her husband. Paul proudly proclaims to friends, “Julia
brings out the best in a pole cat” acknowledging her zest for life, love of the
French - and the food.
Julia is me in that when I eat an exquisite meal, I moan and
exclaim through the whole meal how wonderful it is, that “it’s the best meal
I’ve ever eaten”!
Julie is me, was me, seeming to parallel my journey. I thought
of myself as a writer … wrote the family periodical The Olsen Chronicles, penned stories, kept diaries and journals - but
felt a void in my life’s direction. I was close to tears for most of the movie in
2009 as I morphed into these women and embraced the love and support they
received from friends and family.
As the movie progressed thoughts were formulating and
terminated in a decision to begin my own blog. I love watching cooking shows,
and, in particular, The Barefoot Contessa
… so because of my own tomboy existence chose The Barefoot Norwegian as my blog’s name. It would be a blog of
positivity and would be about my experiences traveling through Michigan and my coffee
shop musings. I virtually hugged Julia, Julie, and Meryl, for reigniting my writing
spark.
Tears again pricked at my eyes as I sat on the couch finally
allowing the grief of Julia Child’s death go, feeling comforted in knowing I
still had Meryl Streep who helped redirect my life, giving me purpose during a
period of my life when I needed it.
Under the Tuscan Sun
is another most favorite movie … um, does this mean an Italian Villa in my
future?
And, so it goes, spontaneously and unpredictably exciting…
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