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I found these on the grocery store shelf a while back….
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And I swear my arteries hardened just walking by.
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After posting this on Facebook, I was assured by numerous people duck fat is a perfectly delicious way to cook potatoes. And while that may be true, I’m still passing on that giant jar of pork lard.
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Stop groaning, this one is easy.
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I’m sure I must have seen other movies before this one… we had a lovely old fashioned theater in my hometown complete with velvet covered balcony seating… and I’m sure my mother took me to all the Disney classics, but the first film I have full actual memories of seeing is The Poseidon Adventure.
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It was 1972 and Irwin Allen’s gigantic blockbuster disaster movies were all the rage.
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The premise was simple. Assemble a huge cast and blow them up. Or burn them down. Or in this case, sink them.
I’ve seen the film many times since then ( not by choice, because the husband is always tuned to the old turkey channel ) but my first time will always be special… because I was with my dad.
My late father was not a movie person. Hell, we didn’t even have a television in the house when I was young and when we finally did get one …. it was banished to a small rarely used room.
But on that day my mother was busy and my father offered to take me to the movies. I was an only child, a total daddy’s girl and the mere idea of it was heaven.
We picked the perfect seats and had the perfect snacks. (Hot buttered popcorn and Milk Duds in case you’re wondering) The lights dimmed, the music swelled and I settled in for a wonderful afternoon. I chattered like a magpie in the beginning and my father patiently and quietly answered all my inane questions.
Then it was happening. The actors were in place, the music changed to something ominous and then… the wave. The huge wave was about to sink the ship! It was loud! It was thrilling! People were screaming! Oh, the horror! I glanced over to gauge my father’s reaction to the cinematic magnificence before us….. and saw that he was sound asleep.
I didn’t have the heart to wake him… he worked long stress filled hours as the Vice President of a stock brokerage firm…. so I sat silently and watched the rest of the movie by myself.
He roused near the end, and pretended to have seen the whole thing. I pretended to believe him. And after all these years, it’s still one of the silly little memories of him that makes me cry.
So how about you?
What was the first movie you remember seeing.
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Does anyone blog from the WordPress phone app?
I’ve been seeing this on my scheduling list lately and it’s got me baffled.
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Local changes.
What does that mean….they think I might be editing from Paris?
And why is it flashing back to posts I wrote a year ago?
I have to physically scroll down to get it to refresh and pop back up to current day.
No big deal, I was just wondering if it happens to anyone else. I enjoy being special, but not this time.
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We had a little excitement here at Casa River the last time I took Dudley for a stroll. While rounding the corner of the garage his Lordship pounced… and came up with a mouse.
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I hadn’t seen or heard it…. but His Royal Highness was on it like white on rice.
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And yes, it was a violent attack.
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Problem is, once the instinct to chase and catch faded…..
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He had absolutely no idea what to do next… looking to me for guidance.
And while I normally save all captured creatures… we’ve been having a slight mouse issue. Winter’s coming and I’m sorry, but I don’t want the little devils nesting in my warm car or house…. so I instructed Lord Dudley Mountcatten to finish it.
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The poor thing was mortally wounded and dragging his little back feet anyway.
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In typical I will enjoy torturing you by tossing you into the air cat fashion, Mickey was flying to and fro.
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But finally, the deed was done.
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Live mice? Fun toys.
Dead, non moving no matter how much you bat at them, mice?
Kinda boring.
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My husband doesn’t like it when I say I told you so. And oddly enough he doesn’t like it when I roll my eyes at him either. So from now on I shall be channeling Sheldon Cooper and saying “I informed you thusly.”
I uttered this phrase repeatedly yesterday when I walked out to the barn after a rain storm and saw this:
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In case you aren’t aware, apple trees limbs are not supposed to be lying on the ground.
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When we moved to this house 20 years ago, there were two gorgeous mature apple trees in the backyard.
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I put furniture under them, kept trimming the lower branches and spent long lazy summer afternoons reading in the shade. Then, out of nowhere… the husband decided I was hurting the trees and refused to let me prune them. I fought against this ruling for a few years and then gave up. This was the result:
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Every year the trees were so laden with fruit they hung to the ground. It drove me crazy but the husband wouldn’t let me near them with shears. I kept telling him he would regret it, but he wouldn’t listen.
So naturally, this happened:
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A major branch, basically half the Granny Smith tree… cracked and split off.
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I contacted a licensed arborist and he’ll be here in a few days to give us an estimate for structural pruning to save the trees from further destruction.
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And after we’ve paid a small fortune to someone we didn’t really have to?
I shall inform him thusly one more time.
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Because I still need to laugh.
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Nothing like negative reinforcement.
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It’s all about choices.
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It certainly is.
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That seems fair to me.
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I really need that shirt.
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It’s not much of a stretch to say this house is run solely for the comfort and convenience of the cat.
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When his Lordship wants to look out the window?
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His Lordship looks out the window.
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Even if his parents are trying to stop the sunlight fading their furniture.
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A girlfriend and I hit Goodwill the other day and if nothing else, it’s a great place to pick up cheap books.
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16 books for $21? A little slice of heaven right there.
Of course, even thrift store shopping isn’t immune to politics these days…
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And while I didn’t buy that tee shirt, I did buy this one. Because, honestly…. I had to.
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I shall wear it and point at myself the next time my husband disagrees with me. That should go over well.
My girlfriend was in the mood for Cracker Barrel so that’s where we headed for lunch. The restaurant was almost empty but the hostess told us there would still be a 20-25 minute wait to be seated due to short staffing. (I’m seriously tired of waiting for meals… have all the pre Covid waiters and waitresses been abducted by aliens and given the anal probe? If not… please go back to work. River be hungry. )
Since it was raining we chose to wander the store instead of sitting outside on the rocking chairs, and that’s where I saw this:
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For which I have no logical explanation.
But perhaps the biggest surprise of the day?
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Alcohol… at Cracker Barrel!
When did that happen? Granted it’s not a favorite restaurant of mine and I probably haven’t stepped foot in one since my mother passed but it seems like I would have noticed such a momentous event.
Since their beer was dishwater I opted for a mimosa, which was close to dishwater only fizzy… but yes, it was alcohol!
At Cracker Barrel!
The world really has gone mad.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten saw a chipmunk disappear into the backyard rock wall the other day and was stone cold focused on catching it.
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He paced, he stalked, he cackled, he dove head first into crevices.
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And after half an hour of me standing patiently beside him with the leash?
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He caught a dried up day lily leaf.
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I’m so proud.
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Have you ever tried this?
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I found it last week and it isn’t half bad. Apparently smashing citrus fruit and mixing it with vodka is a Maryland crab bake tradition.
This next one is all I’m going to say about the travesty happening in Texas. Because common sense is common sense, and if men were the ones who got pregnant? There would be clinics on every street corner.
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Have you ever felt like you just aren’t accomplishing enough?
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There.
I feel better already.
And finally, it’s never too early to start that Christmas knitting.
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