(I wanted to call this post La Fete des Lumières, but I was laughing too hard to do it. Hopefully, the first entry when you search for that on Google will explain why.)
My little cousins and I watched Ramona and Beezus this evening. Thank you, Beverly Cleary, for Ramona. She has always been one of my favourite book characters. A spunky, imaginative exploratress who colours outside the lines and cuts her own hair (though not always intentionally). My role model!
The movie is the same happy explosion of sunshine Ramona is.
In the perfect span of time to keep a fidgety seven-year old and her easily distracted teenage cousin entertained, it safaris through the often exasperating intricacies of a nine-year old's relationship with the confounding adult world. Here is a girl who falls through ceilings, constructs herself a crown of burs, sets fire to her kitchen and accidentally spills nineteen varieties of paint on a vintage car. You start and end very much looking at the world through Ramona's unique, nine-year old fisheye view.
Ramona, I love you for reminding that I'm so much more the person I used to read about. Sunshine and happiness. Funner. And while I'm reflecting on that and the time I read Ramona, here's something from a cookbook I also received when I was six. And finally managed to make on Diwali morning, thirteen years later.
|Sunny! Mashed potatoes and eggs in a basket.|
Quit drooling, you.