Yesterday, Chris and I were able to sit down and start a movie that we have been waiting to see for a couple of months. Yep, we don't get a chance to see movies together, even at home, unless it is one of the movies that Ivy can watch. The movie was "In Her Shoes".

I am not a movie watcher. I do not enjoy going to the theater, I'll sit through a DVD in spurts at home, but only if it holds my attention. This isn't very often, I'll admit. I will normally make a decision to watch the full movie within the first 15 minutes. It drives Chris nuts. He will finish a movie come hell or high water for the most part. I made it through "In Her Shoes" and I enjoyed it.

There is one segment where Cameron Diaz is reading a poem from a book. I knew that I had heard the poem before, and it was touching. When the movie was over, I got online and looked it up. The googled responses included the full poem, listed in a post from a little pregnant, one of my favorite blogs.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

— Elizabeth Bishop