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Not Necessarily a Dramatic Post

I went running this morning, thinking I could do a Sunday Running Commentary.  It did not go well.  I went for a walk with my husband a little while ago, thinking I could do a Pedestrian Post.  It was a lovely walk, but that’s about all I can say about it.  Next time I’ll go when it isn’t so close to sundown, bring my tablet along, and get some pictures.  That’s always fun.  Well, this cannot be the day I do not make a blog post.  This is a daily blog, dammit, and I post daily.

Oh dear, that is quite the wrong attitude for Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  I must be pose dramatically, about to swoon, and moan, “The blog must go on!”

This is not me, but I have been known to get this dramatic for the flimsiest of reasons.

I just spent an inordinate amount of time searching for a photo I could use for illustration.  This is not quite what I wanted, but I think it will do.  It is from The Great American Melodrama.  I found it in a group of public photos after searching Facebook for “melodramatic poses.”  I was in a melodrama once and enjoyed it quite a bit.  My husband directed.

I’m the one in the fur.

Here is one of me in a melodrama: Dirty Work at the Crossroads at Ilion Little Theatre, back in 2013, if I remember correctly (don’t expect me to look it up on Wrist to Forehead Sunday).  This is not my most dramatic scene, but apparently nobody photographed that one.  I actually did put my wrist to my forehead to declaim, “Oh shame! Oh degradation!”  It was one of my favorite moments on stage ever.

Well, what a silly post this is turning out to be.  I’ve blathered on for some 300 words, shared a couple of pictures, and not said a whole heck of a lot.  Well, what can you do on a Sunday?  I’ll try to do something better that I can write about tomorrow.  In the meantime, I hope you are enjoying the end of your weekend.  I am

 

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Saturday Clam Sauce

This will be a quick cooking post before I get back to enjoying my Saturday.  I must admit, it has been a largely wasted day, and never mind why, because people who go on about their health woes are tiresome (how’s that for a little passive-aggressive whining?).  I just about managed to get the dishes done by the time Steven got home shortly after six.  I had not planned anything for supper.  Suppressing my desire to send out for a sub or Chinese, I suggested red clam sauce or maybe eggs.  Steven opted for red clam sauce and I went to work.

First, OF COURSE, I crushed up some garlic and set it to breath for fifteen minutes.  It was from the bunch I purchased at the Mohawk Valley Garlic and Herb Festival in Little Falls, NY this past September, just to give the post a little local flair.  At first I said, “I’ll only do three cloves.  I won’t go crazy with the garlic.”  Not a minute later I said, “I’ll go crazy with the garlic,” and put in the entire bulb, which was not very big anyways.  Steven did not comment; he trusts me when it comes to cooking in general and garlic in particular.

I put the dishes away while the garlic cooked in olive oil.  That’s the kind of multi-tasking I can handle.  Incidentally, I forgot to mention that I was cooking with wine, a little 19 Crimes red blend, one of my favorites.  I soon added a can of minced clam with the liquid to the garlic.  I let that boil for a little bit before adding a small can of tomato sauce.  I took a can of mushrooms and drained its liquid into the sauce can, to get the last of the sauce without adding too much more liquid to the whole.  I had told Steven I was not going to include tomato paste, that it would be a thin clam sauce.

Basil and oregano were the only spices I used.  I would have put in a few hot peppers, but I left those outside, where I had been sprinkling them over my container garden to deter squirrels.  Note to self:  purchase more hot peppers.  I considered adding tomato paste anyways but decided to wait and see if the sauce cooked down.  Soon it was time to put on water for pasta.  Ziti rigati, which was all we had besides some angel hair pasta.  Further note to self: purchase more pasta.

The sauce turned out pretty good.  I added salt, pepper and grated cheese before devouring.  Steven added salt and pepper.  He also had a large piece of bread and butter, an extra thick crust on a loaf of Spano’s hard crust Italian.  This adds another local bit, because Spano’s is in Utica, NY.  I am Mohawk Valley Girl!

 

No, It Really IS Friday!

I’m having a Bela moment.

I was going to call this post “Not Feeling Friday,” but a quick search showed me I have already used that title.  Still, feeling it or not, it is Friday, the day I allow myself to post lame (I have different excuses the other days, you know that, so just hold your sarcastic comments till the end).  However, lame or not, a post must be made.  I thought to do the picture thing I have come to enjoy and perhaps overuse.  Looking through my Media Library, I saw this gem, a longtime favorite of mine.  Of course I usually post it on a Tuesday, but it just feels right today.

This was one of my favorite Facebook profile pictures.

I put in this picture in case anybody is judging me for my day-of-the-week time warp.  Go ahead and judge!  I’m not perfect!  I’m not even pretty damn good most days!

Hey, wasn’t I running away from this guy in yesterday’s post?

Oh, here, for anybody who might be sitting there saying, “But dammit, it really IS Friday!”  I can appreciate being a stickler for accuracy.

This is a really fun movie. I wonder if Steven would be into watching it tonight.

I add this picture purely for the irony:  obviously my brain has died, leaving my body behind, fingers typing foolishly.  OK, I have to admit: that just amused me quite a bit.  Well, I’m afraid I write this blog for me.  I hope to also entertain any readers who happen to chance by, but if I please myself, at least SOMEBODY will be happy.  I think even silly bloggers deserve some happiness.

Speaking of silly, I will end with a silly picture of me, in a dramatic moment in The Tempest, the play I was in the LiFT Theatre Company this past summer.  I kind of went over the top in this scene, but the director never told me I went too far, so I guess it was all right.  Now that I think about it, it is a little further irony to put this picture under the heading “Speaking of Silly,” because at that moment in the play (in fact, almost any moment I am on stage), I did not even think about feeling silly: I just went for it.

I’m the one in the yellow tights, in case you couldn’t guess.

Happy Friday, everybody.

 

Inspired to Run

When I was at work, I realized I was looking forward to running later.  That felt good; usually I must psyche myself into it and hope to enjoy it once I’ve started. Full disclosure:  the run did not feel as good as the anticipation, but you’ll have that.  I confess, now I am more in the mood to write a silly post with monster movie pictures than a Running Commentary.  Then I thought, it’s Non-Sequitur Thursday.  Maybe I can combine the two.

A dramatic conclusion to a scary movie.

This is a scene from Horror Hotel, which I was reminded of on a recent run.  I was coming out of Brookfield Park and saw a t-bar in a neighboring back yard, possibly part of a clothesline or a holder for a bird feeder.  To me it looked like a cross, and if it was only crooked, it would look like the cross wielded by a character in the movie as he uses it to break up a satanic ritual.

After I downloaded that photo this evening, I wondered what other pictures I could find that had to do with running. Some people say they only run if something is chasing them, so I looked for one of the villagers chasing Frankenstein’s monster.  The only ones I saw showed the villagers moseying along, carrying torches.  That is actually a pace I might be able to outrun.  Unfortunately, my computer would not let me download any of those photos.  I am so unadept at these things!

“Now you have everything…”

OK, this lady does not run.  She foolishly backs away, screaming loudly, like a typical useless movie female of that era.  But I just couldn’t resist using a photo from House on Haunted Hill, the original William Castle production starring Vincent Price, OF COURSE.  It is one of our favorites.

He is bad, yes.

I close with a picture that could certainly inspire one to run and run fast.  I imagine I would.  This, of course, is the great Christopher Lee, a definitive Dracula to many.  I confess Bela Lugosi is the real Dracula to me, but there is room in my heart for many vampires.  I admire that Lee’s interpretation is so different from Lugosi’s.  There is probably a great scholarly article to be written comparing the two Counts, relating the characterizations to the respective decades in which the movies were made.  I’m not saying I intend to write it.  I write a silly blog.  Happy Thursday, everyone.

 

Less Headache, Still Not Writing

I got 11 Likes on “In My Defense, It’s a Bad Headache.”  For me, that is HUGE!  I rarely get double digit Likes on my blog.  When I do, I am pumped, as well as apprehensive. Now I have set myself a standard to maintain.  Not to worry, though, I can only type what come out of my fingers and fevered (or feeble) brain, hit Publish, and hope for the best.

I thought today on Wuss-out Wednesday, I would share my current angst on my worst current wuss-out.  As regular readers may guess, I am dropping the ball on a lot of fronts.  A partial list includes fitness activities, dieting, house cleaning, general organization, yard work, and WRITING.  I put it in caps, because it is the one I feel worst about.   I used to write every day at work, during lunch and breaks.  Only occasionally would I work on puzzles and very rarely would I bring in something to read.  I’m still pretty good about not bring in stuff to read (largely because that is the hardest to tear myself away from and get back to work), but I am incessantly working on puzzles.  What is my problem?

To make matters worse, I have some days off coming up.  Days off!  Wonderful!  I can spend HOURS writing!  Well, any writer can tell you, and may non-writers can guess, that to not write, not write, not write, and then think you can WRITE is the height of folly.  The operative thing to do is to at least write a little on the days when you don’t have much time.  Take some notes, have a project well in hand, then and only then, can one hope to meet with success when one attempts to utilize an unprecedented length of free time.

So I have been trying to begin a new novel, make some notes and get an outline written before my expected days off, then I can hit the ground running.  Is that not a fantastic plan?  Why am I not doing it?  Oh, I am trying.  I have written some notes.  I think about it while I am working, sometimes dashing off a few notes while my machine cycles (no, it does not slow down my productivity, there is no reason to share this with my boss!).  Some breaks I have managed to write some things down.

However, as my free time approaches, I feel I am nowhere near where I thought I would be.  Come to think of it, I don’t know why I even thought I would be.  When have I ever had my act together?  When have I ever given the least appearance of having the various parts of my act in the basic vicinity of each other?  What the hell, me?

I think on my bad blog days (like this one), I may be better off sharing pictures of monsters than my writing woes.  After all, writing woes can get tiresome, but who doesn’t like monsters?  So I will end with a picture of one of my favorites, and get back to work on that novel.  Or maybe I should clean the living room…

Even the vampire thinks I should get back to work!

 

In My Defense, It’s a Bad Headache

I went for a run earlier today, thinking I could make a Running Commentary post.  It beats a Tired Tuesday post, so I thought.  Well, I’m not too tired to write a post, but I have another blankety-blank headache!  What’s that all about? I haven’t done anything to give myself a headache!  It’s no fair.

So here I am whining about my tiresome ills instead of entertaining my readers.

That was when I paused and went to Facebook (my usual dodge during these blogging woes), where I posted that my head hurt and I couldn’t write.  A Facebook friend encouraged me to continue writing my blog post about having a headache.  To be sure, I have had worse headaches.  For one thing, I am sitting upright typing.  The headache has not made my nauseous (I just tried about twelve spellings of “nauseous” before happening on the right one; where’s my damn dictionary, anyways?).

Continuing to count my blessings, I see it is almost time for Steven to get home from work.  We need to go vote.  After my shower, I put on a cute outfit (although perhaps I flatter myself).

Ooh, I hear him now.

I stopped typing and went to vote.  It is one’s democratic duty.  And it did not take long.  No lines, no waiting.  I love small town living.  Once we got home I warmed up and ate some sausage soup, so I am feeling better about everything.  So this is my Tired Tuesday post.  Run, headache, vote.  Oh, and I did a load of laundry.  I’ll get my act together yet!  I hope to see you all on Wuss-out Wednesday, when Mohawk Valley Girl will be surprised and pleased to have made it half-way through the week.

 

 

Monday Meander

So I got home from work and wrote my weekly postcards that I usually do on Saturday (don’t judge).  Steven graciously agreed to walk to the post office with me.  One reason I wanted to walk was to go through Meyers Park and check out the historical marker that said a graveyard was moved to put a park there.

I have noticed that marker before, notably while running.  I flash on Poltergeist when I see it.  Spoiler alert!  Stop reading here if you have not seen Poltergeist.  When we finally find out the source of all the haunting, we learn that it is because the unscrupulous real estate developer moved a graveyard but only moved the gravestones, not the bodies.  As I run through Meyers Park, I irresistibly hear Craig T. Nelson screaming, “You son of a bitch, you DIDN’T MOVE THE BODIES!!!”  Imagine my chagrin when we caught part of Poltergeist on TCM on Halloween and I discovered that that is not the actual line.  But he does call the guy a son of a bitch, so I am not completely full of beans.

Where was I?  Oh it is a Monday Mental Meanderings.  We took a walk, we got some food, I want to sit here and crochet and watch television.  I see that my husband Steven is looking at the movies.  I’d better get off the computer before he picks out something I do not want to see. Happy Monday, everyone.