Julia Child died today at 91. This saddens me. She was an amazing woman, and her life should give all of us who suspect we might be late bloomers a glimmer of hope. (She didn't start cooking seriously until she was 34).
From the NYT's obituary:
Mrs. Child was a breast cancer survivor, a cat lover, a fervent advocate of Planned Parenthood and an unabashed sensualist with a sly sense of humor. One year she and her husband sent out Valentine's cards with a photograph of them together in the bathtub in Paris....At her funeral, I hope they show the old SNL sketch of Dan Aykroyd imitating Julia - I think she'd find it amusing.To the end, Mrs. Child maintained her image as the ultimate bon vivant, a California girl with easy French tastes. Whenever she was asked what her guilty pleasures were, she responded: "I don't have any guilt."
Oh, I hate these kinds of deaths! (Not like I LIKE any kind...) The ones where you I know someone really but I hear about it and want to tell other people, and then I end up feeling morbid.... I (like my mom who does this all the time with people I met once, when I was two...)