Well if this is September, bring it on, baby! Today was glorious. Little short of perfect, temperature and humidity-wise, at least. No clouds in the entire sky until just a few hours ago and they are the most innocent and delicate of clouds, like wispy bits of stretched cotton.
But it was so nice this morning and I feel so much better that I decided to take a walk. I've been deathly afraid to do anything that might jolt that kidney stone into a bad place but it has become noticeably less present in the last few days so I risked it. And the walk made me so happy. I mean, I actually enjoyed it.
First off, these are blooming again.
I know. I know! I post pictures of these every year but every year they make me happy all over again. They make me especially happy because they are not growing on MY fence in MY yard because guess what?
Yes. They are invasive.
Yes. They are invasive.
But I love the way they look like bright jewels on their green backgrounds, such perfect little red stars.
I risked walking through poison ivy to take a few close-up pictures of the fally-down house.
It has not yet fallen to flatness, but it is definitely laying down. It is weary. I will always wonder about this place with its wallpapered rooms and who lived there and what their lives were like.
So obviously, I was much cheered today and that has made such a difference. I shelled peas, I played piano. I've looked at recipes for boiled tofu. Have you ever boiled your tofu? I've been reading about it and it seems like an interesting way to prepare it. Supposedly, boiling tofu in salt water actually draws out the moisture and has other magical properties but there seems to be great confusion as to exactly how this is done. The recipe I originally looked at today which inspired me to try this calls for the tofu to be boiled for twenty minutes in salt water. Or simmered. Other recipes say 5-10 minutes. Some say that anything over two minutes makes the tofu...something. I don't know. And some recipes call for not boiling it all, but merely pouring boiling water over it.
To add to all of this, you can pat your boiled tofu dry, top it with some sauce, and eat it as is. OR, you can dry it off and fry it or bake it or however you like to make your tofu crispy. So I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with my tofu tonight but it will involve boiling because...what the heck?
Live dangerously, right?
To add to all of this, you can pat your boiled tofu dry, top it with some sauce, and eat it as is. OR, you can dry it off and fry it or bake it or however you like to make your tofu crispy. So I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with my tofu tonight but it will involve boiling because...what the heck?
Live dangerously, right?
God. I remember when I used to experiment with drugs. Now I experiment with tofu. I suppose this is a good thing.
Mr. Moon seems to be fine and well. He made it to Canada and when he called me early this afternoon, they were packing up to head to "the cabin". Men just do love a cabin, don't they?
I began rewatching "The Phoenician Scheme" while I was shelling peas. I said I wanted to rewatch it and I wasn't kidding. I am enjoying it as much or more the second time around. I'm catching things I missed, I'm admiring the performance of Benicio del Toro and Mia Threapleton even more the second time around. You know me- I hate to catch an actor acting but it's an entirely different ball game in a Wes Anderson movie. They all have that rather playful atmosphere which doesn't actually try to mimic real life. It represents a slightly different world, I think. A fairy-tale world, a fantastical world, a world where the sets and the costumes are as much a part of the mood and feel of the movie as the actors and script. In his best movies, they all come together to form a whole which doesn't try to be realistic in the understood definition of the word, but manages to offer a clear picture we can all understand of the world which Anderson has created and it is very, very human.
I almost feel like it's Shakespearian. Stylized and dramatized and no one makes movies like he does.
I almost feel like it's Shakespearian. Stylized and dramatized and no one makes movies like he does.
Well. Good god. Where did all that come from? I don't review movies. I have no idea what I'm talking about! It's just all my personal opinion.
It's supposed to get down to 65 degrees tonight. DID YOU HEAR ME? That's 18.3333 Celsius! Unbelievable. There may be another walk in my future tomorrow.
In an unrelated topic, I decided to try and figure out how old Maurice is, approximately, by doing some research on my blog. Here is the very first picture taken here of our satanic familiar, our perpetually unpredictable and anxious Maurice.
That was in 2014 and she looks like a teenager there. So she's at least eleven years old. She was already smart enough to know who to charm. She knew she had me by the second day she showed up.
Okay. The first day. I fed her venison vegetable soup. Of course she was never leaving.
And let me just say- Glen hasn't changed an iota. What the hell?
Okay. The first day. I fed her venison vegetable soup. Of course she was never leaving.
And let me just say- Glen hasn't changed an iota. What the hell?
Here's a picture of the Weatherfords at Santa Rosa beach, which they are just now leaving.