Just watched this vid from the Times.21 minutes of a boat rescuing refugees who smugglers have insisted leave their home and they send them off, many of them end up in the water and the rescue boat attempts to bring em on board.
Very rainy out now. At the Giant, I rode in a motorized cart - hey maybe Giant can sponsor races - and I just took my time buying loads of things.
When I got back in my car, it felt as if I was still riding the cart. Strange sensation.
A former client left me a message. Shall I upset myself and listen to the message? Am drinking hot tea now. Called in the morning. Luckily she didn't answer so I left a message.
Scott and I napped to a great film, ROPE, the first color film by Hitchcock. He slept thru most of it - was really exhausted, while I probly missed about 20 minutes, which I learned about when I watched the commentary at the end.
Probly the most interesting commentary I've ever watched.
I made the pumpkin chili for the neighbor family. Pete and his Christian Gilgal fellows had spent hours taming my back yard. Pete and wife Kim have four children, GREAT kids.
So they picked up the chili while I was writhing with tension watching ROPE at Scott's, based on the Leopold Loeb murders of Bobby Franks.... the perfect murder.
Was on FB and got involved in a brief discussion with Clevenger a family man from Ohio. We were on Lee Child's website and I mentioned that I couldn't get into Child's latest books for several yrs.... he seemed to have run out of ideas.
Then I mentioned to Clevenger about the film ROPE. What I should do is get into a film discussion group. Thing is, I'm not good with film history but I do know what I like about the film. Lemme find a better link for ROPE.
Just before hosting a dinner party, Philip Morgan (Farley Granger)
and Brandon Shaw (John Dall) strangle a mutual friend to death with a
piece of rope, purely as a Nietzsche-inspired philosophical exercise.
Hiding the body in a chest upon which they then arrange a buffet dinner,
the pair welcome their guests, including the
victim's oblivious fiancée (Joan Chandler) and the college professor
(James Stewart) whose lectures inadvertently inspired the killing.
Homosexual theme is represented but never mentioned. I learned that in the commentary.
Enough!
With the leftover pumpkin filling, I made pumpkin soup. I had none of the ingredients so here's what I used
Two cartons Brown Cow Vanilla Yogurt
Big scoop of Almond Butter, bought by Sarah when she was here
Couple Tbls of Olive Oil from Tunisia
Then I looked in the sink where there were a couple scraps of spinach and bingo an idea came. I sprinkled sunflower seeds on top of the hot soup, which is in a huge cup Bruce Li had bought me.
Was too lazy to vacuum but did so today. Miss Bissell powered up nicely and we did the living room - where the neighbors would enter - and finally my bedroom.
AT LONG LAST RAIN
I've flung open the front door
to watch the gentle rain
the day's still bright
and smells of worms
dead leaves and squirrels
How parched the earth's been
the bark on the sycamore
has a pink glow, honestly,
and I needn't tell you
how greedily the burnt
grass gulps it down
Everything is cleansed!
The bird crap on the walkway
the car and the lamp post
I wonder how the blue heron
is faring on Lake Galena.
The waves surely must rock
And blind little Marie-Clair
in the book I'm reading
would point her cane to
the skies and drink
the rain.
***
Was up till 4 in the morning writing and submitting. Marcy was very helpful! All three of my stories were rejected - Soulmates - Never Say You're Sorry - and something with Comeback in the title, which was my fave.
The editor states we'll get our work back in one day, which is true.
I went from being shocked to being pissed and then being sad. Are those the five stages of dying?
Finished this memoir, which I listened to in the kitchen. The narrator is a real jerk, unlikable, just like his mum. What was wrong with the two of them?
Did I tell you I'm enjoying
She was married to Martin Scorsese for one whole year and they have a grown daughter.
Unexpected inner power!
Am feeling it now.
MAIL FROM BOYS TOWN,
AUDUBON SOCIETY AND
LAKOTA INDIAN VILLAGE
They come in droves seeking
donations, pristine white
envelopes puckering with
calendars, greeting cards
and address labels making
me feel I will drown in
their funding hopes, as I toss
half into the junk mail
carton which will be used
to make park benches, and
the others, I shamefully
file in the bulging
desk drawer without paying
a cent to Aunt Selma and
the grandchildren, and knowing
the next day when I hear the
thud of the mailbox,
my guilt will runneth over,
as I press on a queer-looking
Star Trek stamp to Beverly and give
the famous Vulcan salute.
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