America’s First Dog

First Poodle?  Portuguese waterdog, smudderdog, that’s a poodle.  No, no, no!

The only appropriate choice for First Dog, is of course, the Boston Terrier, because it truly is America’s first breed – a true American concoction, bred from a cross between an English Bulldog and a white English Terrier. This dog symbolizes the American immigrant experience. First a fighter, now the quintessential “American Gentleman,” the Boston Terrier is intelligent, self-sufficient, yet charming, affectionate, and of course, very talented.  Apple pie, pizza, french fries and chicken soup all rolled into one.  And that allergy Malia suffers from?  Nonsense.  Suck it for the right dog.



(Well, a Boston Terrier like Lemon – Lemon doesn’t need the White House, she has us!)

To Snark or Not to Stark?

“And they don’t need me to tell them?”  What was I thinking when I wrote that yesterday? 


Of course, Angelina Jolie – you need my help!!


Actually, what I was thinking about was a review I read of David Denby’s new book, Snark: It’s Mean, It’s Personal, and It’s Ruining Our Conversation.  In the book, Denby, a film critic (hmmm, has he ever heard that thing about people in glass houses?) for the New Yorker, excoriates internet snarkers, who with their  “I’m in the know and you are loser” attitude are ruining our national conversation by spewing insults, invectives, and venonmous talk, without purpose, point or perspective.  And that a snarker  joke is just a smokescreen for anger and abuse, much like a schoolkid sticking his leg out from under his desk in order to trip the class nerd.  The book was not particularly well reviewed, but the review, still managed to shame me, concluding, “No, what we need is a revolution in sensibility, a return to civil discourse, a way of opening, rather than closing down, debate.

This, too, is what Denby means to argue, that we deserve better, not just from our media outlets, but also from ourselves.” 


A revolution in sensibility – exactly.  My favorite scene in the movie Sense and Sensibility is when Marianne and Elinor revist the spot where Marianne fell, and there she met Willoughby.  Marianne is ashamed of her behavior (behavior much like that documented in the never-to-be a classic, He’s Just Not That Into You), and Elinor gasps, “Surely you do not compare your conduct to his?”  And Marianne responds, “No, I compare it to what it should have been, I compare it to yours.”   


And, therefore, yesterday, I resolved to behave like Elinor, to promote the revolution in Sensibility – and nod and pass on the Oscar fashion, because really, why should I just put forth my completely unconstructive criticism?  I will return to civil discourse, and only say nice things.  Isn’t that the Jane way, if you don’t have anything nice to say, speak about the weather?


Well, the weather is cold outside, and that’s about all there is to say about the weather.


Sensibility is boring. 


So, with that said – I’m certainly not trying to shut down civil discourse — always, please disagree with me – the more the merrier at Chez Lemontines. 


And, what I did get right in yesterday’s post is that, there’s not much to say about this year’s Oscar fashion-less.  Mostly playing in straight, safe, probably to avoid being snarked – but here are a few observations:


Note to Angie – Stay home!  If you’re going to come to a big party, where frankly you are a guest of honor, be gracious — there’s no need to snub Tim Gunn on the runaway.  The man is simply worshipping at your Diorred feet, and there’s no need to kick him in the teeth.  You have everything – a handsome (but oh so dim) partner, children the rest of us don’t want, but you obviously do, a fantastic career, and world adoration, and the rest of us, all we have to bask with pride in is the notion that we seem to be the only ones left in this country paying taxes  – smile dammit, and be happy – it won’t break your face (or maybe it will – I have no idea what work you’ve done to your face, and if it really will break your face, then by all means, go with the puss face you had on all night).  And black, again, really?   I would think that would be the most difficult color for you at this point – nothing shows baby spit more than black. 



Dear Viola, dear dear Viola – I wanted you to win the Oscar, not be the Oscar!


Oscars Arrivals


Memo:  To SJP

From:  Your Tailor

Re:  Your Oscar Dress

   We have been mulling over your latest fitting, and because our suggestions fell on completely deaf ears (ears that apparently believe they are 25 years old as opposed to 45 years old), we feel compelled, in order to avoid any future liability, to reduce our thoughts to writing – simply put, this dress does not fit you, and you should not attempt to wear it on the red carpet.  If you do so, you and your breasts will look foolish. 

   Best regards.


Dear Miley – Get yourself a copy of Sense and Sensibility immediately! 

Oscars Arrivals

Plea to Natalie – please help Miley dress for the next award ceremony!  It’s only fitting that the best dressed should reach down and help the worst dressed.


Mickey Rourke was not the only comeback story on the red carpet – Robert Downey Jr. look at you!  You got it right!!!!  You cut your hair, you shaved your face, you put on a tux – doesn’t it feel good!  And, you did it all knowing that you weren’t going to win.  Next year, Robert, next year!


I could go on, but those are my highlights – or low lights.  Oh, there is one left:



Lemon would be sad if I left out her namesake.  Good job Tina!  And, go ahead, fall in love with Steve Martin any day!

There’s still knitting going on in the city, but . . .

Welcome to my new blog, Lemontines – like a Hallmark Valentine, when I care enough to write the very best . . . or when I care enough to write something good . . . or when I just feel like writing anything.  For a long winded explanation of the name, you can read about it here.

At Penn State, my short story professor spent a lot of time ruminating on the concept of naming – if we name it, does it become?  Is it in the act of naming, that a thing takes root, grows, becomes?  Is a tree truly a tree until we actually name it?  At 9:00 a.m. when I had the class, all I wanted to do was name the exit — it was all a lot of existential hoo ha to me, but for whatever reason, it’s something that stuck with me. 

When I named my last blog, Knit and the City, in the naming, it “became” – it became a blog about knitting, and only, aside from the knitting metaphor that really was about something else entirely, about knitting.  I stopped blogging at Knit and the City sometime last September, mostly because I was bored.  With Ravelry, the ultimate myspace for knitters, I had an outlet to write about knitting, post pictures of knitting, make comments about other people’s knitting, and get comments about my own knitting.  What was the point of blogging about knitting?  So, here I am, at my new doman, with a name that, when I say it to myself or think about it – Lemontines – makes me happy.  And the risk?  I’m here . . . all by myself.

There was an article in Sunday’s Philadelphia Inquirer about Facebook, and the current “chain letter” that’s been going around – the 25 things about you note, where the recipient of the chain note posts 25 random things about themselves, with the given being that they most certainly have an audience.  The author of the article suggested that this online  attitude of  “of course I have an audience,” smacks of narcissism.  But aren’t blogs the ultimately 25 random things about oneself? Is an audience assumed if you have a blog?

I assume no such thing – I’m happy when someone reads my blog, but I don’t assume it, and leaving Knit and the City, which because of the podcast and the fantastic knitting community, had a small following, really might be a big mistake. 

So, if you’ve found me – welcome!  I intend to blog about anything and everything – movies, books, little things here and there I find interesting, random thoughts that pop into my head, and of course, I’ll still write about my knitting.  Maintaining my own domain, as opposed to being hosted by Blogger, is a challenge, and I’m enjoying figuring out the code.  Hopefully, I’ll be a more regular writer, because it is the act of writing that I missed from Knit and the City.  Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’ve lost words – so much of my communication is face to face, where an expression can substitute for the proper adjective, or through texting and email – where everything is shorthand. 

I’m looking forward to finding this lost vocabulary,  and hopefully, putting it to good use.  And, if not, maybe I’ll at least become better at the Times Crossword puzzle.