I am watching The Bride of Frankenstein, looking for a little cinematic comfort food. Regular readers know how I love old time movie monsters. When I went to New Hartford (NY) this afternoon, I rather thought I would make a couple of interesting stops and mention them in a blog post. Instead I got back-ended and drove straight home. I wasn’t going to mention that, but I thought it would be unbearably coy of me to say I was shaken and feeling fragile without explaining why.
I’m quite all right, of course. It’s just that I’m such a big fat baby about such things. The point is, I came home and after a couple of long phone calls with insurance companies, I read an Agatha Christie book (also comforting) and looked for one of my favorite movies to try to even myself out. Which does not make for the most scintillating of blog posts, but you’ll have that, especially with me. Eventually I got so cold, I made myself some soup, which I ate with a Heidelberg roll left over from Christmas dinner. Yum.
I had it in mind to watch Bride of Frankenstein a few days ago, because it was Elsa Lanchester’s birthday. I adore Elsa Lanchester. I think she has a better part in Witness for the Prosecution, but we saw that more recently, and anyways, there are no monsters in it. I really felt I must have monsters.
I close with a picture I quite identify with. “I myself am entirely made of flaws stitched together with good intentions.” I am going to declare this a Non-Sequitur Thursday and drive on.