notes from maggie's farm
love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
-jean anouilhTonight, I'm grateful for rainy nights and love, actually.
No, really. Love, Actually. The movie. The delightful gift from across the pond that ushers in the holiday season in our home, every year. I know every word, I believe. And my fella knows most, though he always falls asleep when we pile under covers and watch a movie in the evening, so he knows everything for say, like thirty minutes. Tonight, we're forty minutes in. Must have been the early evening caffeine. (We've begun Citizen Kane seven times. I've finished Citizen Kane seven times. He--O. Citizen Kane is good, but not seven times good.)
But I digress. This will likely not be my last mention of Love, Actually this season. I've already planned several posts around my favorite scenes. So tonight, let me usher you briefly into Love, Actually, and the joy of a rainy evening, shared with a movie, the one I love and warm buttered rums, that this precious few hours away from finals and holiday prep allows.
So Love, with a capital L. Not just a crush. Not infatuation. Not romance. Not love in the way that I love football. Or cheese. Or the color of figs. Real love. The gift of one's self. The love we share. The love that is shared with us. I think the introduction to Love, Actually really speaks about it so well:
Have a lovely evening.