In addition to that, it seems that the fine folks at Blogger have, yet again newly "improved" the user experience by moving everything around and changing the way things look. Have these pointy-headed young people in small cubicles nothing better to do with their time than change things that we foundation members of the Wrinklies Brigade had finally figured out how to use? Alas, change is inevitable and one must accept it. One does not, however, have to like it! I shall press on, but if things look decidedly dodgy, please address your editorial comments to the pointy-headed people.
In a fit of geographic and temporal dissatisfaction, I have lately found myself watching a ridiculous number of foreign language films set in Europe c.1930 - 1960. Some are more recent efforts than others and all show me a viewpoint different than the American view of that place at that time. The fit before that seemed to be reality dissatisfaction and I was watching a long series of films in which The Enemy hailed from another planet and/or had mutated or mechanical abilities not available to the average soldier, scientist, or citizen. It is curious how similar the themes of Europe's c.1930 - 1960 conflicts are to interstellar or inter-cellular conflict. Being a child with a vivid and active imagination, I have an almost endless capacity for manufacturing wild and exhausting dreams when I sleep. It has been most curious to see the effects of incorporating the visions of these European filmmakers into my already vivid dreamscapes so that I wake up in a breathless panic, not sure whom I can trust or where safety is to be found. I suppose these are old themes that all societies have had to grapple with, but I wish they wouldn't pursue me into sleep. For many years my catalog of dreams has included scenarios in which I was being pursued by something dangerous. During the last marriage there came a time when I suddenly found that, if I could only reach Someone, I would be safe; I would be protected. It was an especially bad dream the night my sleep story revealed to me that this particular safe harbor no longer existed (if, indeed, it ever had). Thereafter, Someone now appears in the dreams as one more dangerous pursuer; albeit not violent. The gloss given to this by the foreign films is the edgy and dispiriting visual images that add the sense of hopelessness in the middle of conflict; whether interior or exterior. Watching relationships and buildings crumble in a more violent and temporal war, during which no one really knows whether all this sacrifice is going to make a spit's worth of difference, gives a vivid imagination loads of fodder for sleep-time wildness. So, in addition to every other thing I can manufacture to make my life more difficult; the dreams have been wild! This is not to say that my dreams are never pleasant; they are, sometimes. To be honest, though, more often than not, I wake up thinking, "What the hell was THAT?"
Else, the midwinter is settling in with its usual seductive invitation to sleep and to eating too much. The foodie publicists are all displaying huge articles with succulent photographs of vast pots of soup, chili, stews, and all manner of wonderfulness. I have a slow cooker (purchased in a moment of midwinter madness one year) that has the capacity to do almost everything except clean under the refrigerator. Sadly, it is most useful when preparing a meal for 36 people. Why is it that winter comfort food seems to need to be made in party or battalion amounts? Yes, yes, I know; "make it and freeze it," you say. I suppose so, but there is still something a bit tragic about taking one's shabby little one-cup serving bag of frozen food out of the freezer and standing in front of the microwave waiting for it to thaw and warm. Much more festive and companionable to ladle great scoops from the pot into bowls and onto plates. Alas, it is not to be. Thankfully, there are friends to invite over for midwinter dinners and cook with! And, notably, one of my foodie websites had an entire fistful of recipes for cooking with kale that did not involve black-eyed peas or other nastiness. I shall make some attempt at vegetarian-inspired healthfulness this winter.
And now, furkids and harp practice call to me. Best to each of you!
"If life is a muddle, we can't look for love to make it all come right" (P.D. James)
(translate: Get your skates on, Jayne, and straighten up!)
Black, yellow and burgundy felt pieces stapled and taped together is our latest attempt at Harry Potters costumes....we may need that help from grandma. None the less it's been fun, and now Asher is "reading" book three already.
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