Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Not Up On All the Good Guy Rules

Two weekends ago, I watched an unusual Hammer Studios film in which Christopher Lee played the good guy, The Devil’s Bride (1968).

Before I forget, Spoiler Alert! I may even give away the ending this time. Perhaps I should also include a No Cheese Alert, because although Hammer Films are quite fun to write about and I do poke fun at them, I could not say they were cheesy. The production values are too good, for one thing. The films are visually appealing. Sets and costumes reflect effort and expense. Perhaps one day I’ll do a whole post pontificating on the cheesiness inherent in the horror genre. In the meantime, back to today’s feature.

The movie opens with Lee and a friend in a carriage riding to a reunion of some sort (you know I never bother about details). They decide to stop at the house of this guy that seems to have dropped from sight. We learn that this is the son of a friend of theirs. The friend is deceased, and Lee and his companion are pledged to take care of the son, now a fine young man.

When they arrive at the young man’s house, some party is going on. An innocent-looking girl says, “Oh, I thought there were only supposed to be 13 of us.” So in case we missed the title, we are clued in. Channeling Sherlock Holmes, Lee tells his friend to listen in on the other guests’ conversations.

When Young Man is all, “So sorry I can’t ask you to stay,” Lee pipes up with, “Can I just look at your telescope quick?” and bounds up the stairs.

The weird charts on the wall and cryptic symbols on the floor are explained away as decorations. Less easily explained are the two chickens Young Man tries to keep Lee from finding.

Lee says he would rather see Young Man dead than involved with this stuff, so this could have been a really short movie, although kind of a downer. Instead, Lee punches him in the face, knocking him cold.

I have to say it again, that is perhaps the movie cliche I find most annoying which is the least true. If it was that easy to knock somebody out with a blow to the face, most boxing matches would be a lot shorter. Oh, I know some boxers do knock their opponents out with one blow, but these are professional punchers and even they can’t do it every time. It is extremely unlikely that random movie characters can accomplish it so conveniently. Rant over.

So Lee and Friend get Young Man to Lee’s house, where Lee brings him around, hypnotizes him, slips a crucifix around his neck and sends him upstairs to sleep it off.

Of course he does not stay safely asleep or, again, this would have been a shorter movie. It’s round one to Satan (or rather his henchmen), but Lee says, “At least we saved the chickens.” That may be, but he leaves them in the basket in the telescope room closet. If he was really going to save them, shouldn’t he, for example, have brought them out to the chicken coop and gotten them some feed and water? Or is that just my Be Kind to Animals obsession talking?

Lee sends his Friend off to rescue the Girl, remember, the one who thought there were only supposed to be 13. Did I mention she is suitable for Friend to fall in love with? I can’t remember where Young Man is at this point. Lee is off to the British Museum for research. My inner geek rejoices at the thought of combating evil through books, but Lee puts an awful lot of faith in somebody who just now began to believe in Satan.

That is the first of several times Lee gives his second string good guys instructions and goes off to do his own thing. You know they aren’t going to be able to handle it. Only the main good guy can ultimately triumph over evil. Then again, as we said earlier, Lee usually plays the bad guy. He’s probably not up on all the good guy rules. And here I am again, carping on the usual means employed to keep the conflict going so the movie is feature length.

And then a bunch of stuff happens.

It seems the head Satan worshipper has vast if inconsistent powers. He can remotely hypnotize people, only sometimes it doesn’t work. And like all movie bad guys and monsters, his victims follow his nefarious instructions at differing rates of speed, depending on plot requirements. One of his followers picks up the hypnotism trick, too, although to what end, I’m not sure. She hypnotizes the guy who’s trying to save her through bondage (it makes sense in the movie), but spends the rest of the scene staring out the window at a storm. Awaiting further instructions, I suppose.

I confess there was a whole lot I did not pay attention to. For example, there is an outdoor worship fest that reminded me of the KKK rally in O Brother, Where Art Thou? I busied myself in the kitchen when I saw a goat and feared it would come to a bad end (there I go again with the Be Kind to Animals).

There is a little girl who is a pretty good actress, not too cute, not too bratty. Of course she is placed in grave danger. I blame Lee. He has the grown-ups (of the non-servant variety) upstairs in the middle of a fancy chalk circle with salt and holy water and whatnot. The kid is in bed being watched over by some old butler or caretaker. Not even a crucifix. Hello! What do you think is going to happen?

I don’t need a spoiler alert to tell you the movie ends with Satan’s followers vanquished (I’m sure the big buy survives to fight another day). Young Man says, “Thank God,” to which Lee piously agrees. You know, apart from the crucifix, there is very little reference to God. Shouldn’t He be the first one you call when you are fighting Satan? I’m just saying.

However, movies are more into the props and, as I mentioned earlier, maintaining the conflict to feature length. Speaking of length, this is getting to be one of my longer posts, so I’ll save the philosophical discussion for Lame Post Friday.

I Declare a Day Off

So I was all apologetic about, what was is? five foolish posts last week. And here I am NOT writing a real post today. And I don’t care!

It is not Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am actually having a pretty good day. I went running this morning and took Tabby for a walk (in addition to our usual cool-down)(yes, both potentially bloggable activities). I did the dishes (not so bloggable, but in a pinch…). I am cooking potato soup (definitely bloggable; I invented the recipe). Oh, and I watched not one but two cheesy movies yesterday. My possibilities are endless!

And I say to hell with it! I’m taking another day off! Just because I want to! And I’ll use just as many exclamation points as I feel like!

So go ahead, shake your finger at me or point and laugh, according to your inclination. I’m going back to stirring my soup and enjoying my day. I hope you are enjoying yours as well.

It’s Running Commentary Again!

So I started running again two weeks ago, in Vermont, then I didn’t feel so good all week. My ill health culminated in a severe headache on Saturday (perhaps you heard me kvetching about it; everybody else did), and I didn’t feel so hot all this week.

Anybody still reading? I hope so, because this is NOT a post to kvetch about feeling bad again, because I feel TERRIFIC! I went running this morning! I’m going to do a blog post about it!

My day started about 3:30 this morning, because my husband Steven had to work at 6:30 (he needs plenty of lead time). I thought it would be good to wait till the sun was up to hit the pavement. However, I didn’t want to wait too long and talk myself out of it (I can be very persuasive).

I had already walked to the post office with Tabby about 6:30, when it was still dark out. It had been surprisingly warm, but I know the temperature sometimes drops when the sun comes up (go figure) (I’m doing a lot of parentheticals today, aren’t I?)(my computer is telling me “parentheticals” is not a word). I had on some spandex leggings under my skirt (much more comfortable than pantyhose). I thought they would be suitable for a run. I sought out a long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt, which has a big reflective symbol on the back. Safety first! I knew where my toque was, because I’ve been wearing it to work. I was ready!

The sun was up, but cloud cover made everything grey and gloomy, my favorite kind of day. Right away, I saw my friend Pudge the pug with his person.

“Hi there! I haven’t seen you guys in a while!” As usual, Pudge was too wiggly to pet easily, but I tried, while remarking on what a good dog he is. His guy remarked that it was cool out, to which I agreed, and we went our separate ways.

Ah, it felt good to run, which surprised me, because I haven’t done anything but walk with Tabby all week. Still, I guess the walking helped, because I could rock this! I admired some trees still full of colored leaves as I ran down German Street. I decided to go up the hill by Valley Health, just so I could get a nice view of the mountain in the distance as I came down the other side.

Some rays of sun peeked through the clouds at Valley Health, just high enough to hit trees on the top of that hill. The rising sun seems to give a more intense light than when the sun is high in the sky. Perhaps it is the angle. Or perhaps this morning’s cloud cover made it seem that way. Or perhaps I’m full of beans right down the line. In any case, I enjoyed the view.

I enjoyed being at the top of that small hill, especially knowing I probably was not going to run any other hills. The view down to the mountains on the other side of town was disappointing, I suppose because the sun was pointing in the opposite direction. Silly me.

My I Can Rock This euphoria did not last. However, by that time, I was more than half-way through how long I wanted to run. It was no problem to keep going. I admired Halloween decorations on many houses. I noticed one porch, however, that was completely bare. This porch had previously been crowded with bicycles and toys. I wondered if the people living there had moved. Or perhaps the children had abruptly grown up. I interrupted my speculations to admire a particularly cute witch on another porch.

Exciting my admiration even more are the spider webs. I didn’t put up any spider webs this year, but when I do, they end up all clumpy and bunchy. I saw many porches with webs spread smoothly and evenly, some boasting spiders, some dried leaves. Had the leaves just blown there or been artistically placed? They looked cool.

Tabby graciously walked my cool down with me, and I felt pretty damn pleased with myself. I felt even better later when we walked to the post office (again) and the bank. Let’s hear it for exercise! Now if I could only work up the ambition to clean this house…

Curse You, Christopher Lee!

I wrote that headline in the midst of writing this post, and I like it so much I’m going to use it, even though it is not really indicative of the post as a whole. Let’s just say we’re having a non-sequitur moment.

Well, here I am on Lame Post Friday, perched on a stool in my kitchen, writing in a notebook (the spiral-bound paper kind, not a computer) while onions cook and garlic breathes.

While at work today (on breaks, as you know), I worked on my novel and on a blog post which is becoming increasingly unwieldy. It is about a Christopher Lee horror movie. I do love writing about movies, but I always seem to have so much to say. I’ve been working on this one all week. I keep turning a page to work on something else, then going back to the post and leap-frogging to the next clean page. I’m getting a little confused.

And a little embarrassed. Earlier this week, I wrote about how I could not write a particular post, then went back the next day and wrote that post. Now it seems I am doing the same thing with Christopher Lee.

Oh well, these are the choices I make. I like to post every day and only seem able to accomplish this end with an increasing number of very foolish posts. As always, I strive for improvement. This week I believe I had… (counting in my head; too impatient to actually go back and check) five out of six foolish posts so far. What a wretched record! I have no place to go but up.

I Didn’t Even Mention the Fog

It cannot be denied that I am of a perverse disposition. I love bad weather. I drove to work this morning with the words, “I LOVE winter!” ringing in my head. It made me laugh, as did the weather itself, but I believe the sentiment has a legitimate basis.

Recently I came across the phrase, “the more sunshine, the less gumption.” I think it is true and not just a rationalization for those of us who live in a less salubrious climate (but don’t knock rationalization — oh, I’m sure I’ve covered that before). Winter is a challenge. And it can add interest to your morning.

Take this morning, for example. It is the first taste of winter in the Mohawk Valley, with snow in parts and cold temperatures for all. The newscasters on WKTV remarked that they had to scrape their cars. Well, they obviously go to work much earlier than I do. I was sure I would be fine.

When I got out to my vehicle… not so much. I wasn’t too worried, because I always leave extra early (so as to have time to write my blog post, among other reasons), but I could not find a scraper in my Trailblazer. I turned the defrost on full blast and went into the house.

“Scraper!” I called to Steven. “Where is a scraper?”

“In my car!” He grabbed his keys, which just goes to show what a nice husband he is. I could have gone to his car and found the scraper myself, leaving him to enjoy the warm house for as long as possible. I got my toque, which I had forgotten to put on earlier. Bonus!

The scraper was the one we inherited from my grandmother. It has a fur envelope around the handle. Another bonus.

In this short time the defrost had done its work. Not much scraping was required. I kept the scraper in my vehicle, thinking (a) Steven would probably not need one by the time he left for work and (b) he had time to find another one anyways.

So I drove to work feeling absurdly pleased about things. At work I asked my co-worker if she would like motivation to punch me in the face, then told her I like this weather. Luckily for me, she only indulged in a fake punch.

I indulged in a few choruses of “I Got My Love to Keep Me Warm,” and sat down to write my blog post (which you are reading).

Into the Gloom

Well, I wrote that title and have been sitting here, not looking at it but resting my head in my hands. I’ve heard that everyone who suffers from allergies is REALLY SUFFERING this year. No doubt some people are suffering more than me. No doubt most people do not want to hear about my suffering.

In fact, that title was not meant to refer to my health problems or the resulting less than sunny mood. It was a straightforward observation of the weather.

Steven and I took our schnoodle Tabby for a walk after dinner tonight. Cold fall weather has come to the Mohawk Valley, so I dressed accordingly. I put on a hooded pullover sweatshirt, put the hood up, and added a warm jacket with a print involving skeletons. If I would have put on gloves, my life would have been perfect.

I know what you’re thinking: It’s OCTOBER, for heavens’ sake! What are you going to do when the snow flies and it’s below zero? Well, I’ll be acclimated by then, of course. Anyways, I was perfectly comfortable today except for my hands, and hands are often problematic.

Getting back to the walk, it was well before sundown but cloud cover darkened things considerably. It rained a little earlier but had stopped. It looked like it might storm, but we thought we might have time for a couple of blocks.

We encountered two of Tabby’s canine friends, Chico and Bear, with their person. We stopped and chatted and sniffed, according to species. I petted Chico, and Steven petted Bear.

We admired several houses’ Halloween decoration. The gloom made the lights stand out nicely. I thought a couple strings of lights looked more like Christmas lights, but I don’t have a problem with that. After all, reduce, reuse, recycle.

“If we lived in that apartment with the bay window,” I said, pointing to one of the large mansions now split into apartments, “we would put a display in the window.”

Steven agreed.

“Look, the house is for sale. We could buy it and put a display in the bay window.” Pause. “If we had lots and lots of money.”

As we walked down German Street towards our street, we saw a man running towards us with a dog on a leash. Tabby doesn’t like to run with me. We got out of the way, but said hello as they went by. Tabby expressed an interest in following the dog, but we talked her out of it.

It didn’t rain while we were out, so that was good. It was a pleasant if uneventful walk. Reading over the above paragraphs, I deem this a pleasant if unexciting blog post. Maybe a step above Wuss-out Wednesday.

Supporting the Arts

Friday night Steven and I supported the arts in the Mohawk Valley.

Doesn’t that sound fancy? It was a little fancier than our usual Friday night activities (sit around in sweatpants and order pizza is our favorite). We attended the Annual Art Giveaway of the Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts (MVCA).

I recently Liked MVCA on Facebook, which is how we found out about the giveaway. The center posted a beautiful picture, and I started making immediate plans to try to win it. Unfortunately, Steven had to work till 6:30, and the event began at 6. I could have made my way to the arts center in Little Falls, NY, to look at the art and purchase tickets, but did not manage it for one reason or another. Regular readers will not be surprised to hear that I didn’t even have my act together to look at works online and do things by mail or over the phone.

So I went to Francesca’s Banquet in Ilion, NY by myself, with Steven promising to join me as soon as possible. I gave my $5 donation to get in, spent another $5 on 50/50 tickets, made my usual lame joke about how the ticket doesn’t tell you how long to “Keep This Coupon,” then went on to look at the art.

I purchased a book of ten tickets for $30. It was set up like a Chinese auction; you put your ticket into a bag next to the piece you liked. Thirty-five works of art were offered. I figured if there weren’t ten I liked, I could put in multiple tickets for my favorites, like I do at regular Chinese auctions. Of course there were more than ten I liked, but I do have to watch my budget, so I put in for my ten favorites.

Then I realized I had missed a gorgeous soft-sculpture frog at the very end. Steven collects frogs. A few years ago, we had purchased a raffle ticket for such a frog at the arts center in Little Falls, but alas, did not win. I went back to where they were selling tickets and bought just one more ticket.

I saw a few people there I knew. I chatted them up as well as a few new people. There was a table of light refreshments and a cash bar. I indulged in a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and nibbled some cheese and vegetables.

Soon they began to draw for the artwork. Some of the artists were present and said a few words before the ticket for their piece was drawn. They spoke about their views of art in general or their method of working or the story behind that particular piece. I was fascinated. I kept telling people I was inspired and was going to take up an art so I could donate a piece next year. People were very gracious about it; nobody said anything like, “Yeah, like you’re going to be as good as that in a year or less!”

I ended up winning two very beautiful pieces. I was so excited! Steven will have to re-arrange some things on our walls to make good places for them. In the meantime, I’m watching the MVCA Facebook page for their next fundraiser.

For more information on the arts center, visit their website at www.mohawkvalleyarts.org/.

Does This Ever Happen to You?

Sometimes I don’t know why I (a) write this blog, (b) tell people that I write it and especially (c) share the link on Facebook, practically begging people to read it. What the hell’s wrong with me?

A calmer voice in my head reminds me that art and especially writing is all about communication. If I’m going to create something, this line of reasoning goes, why not put it out there?

A mean, nasty voice in my head sneers, “Art? What do you mean art? Do you think what you do is art?”

And then I start to wonder if I really ought to be sharing information about hearing voices in my head.

What prompts this… soul searching? hair tearing? wrist to foreheading?… is a post I am trying to write about the Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts. I mentioned on their Facebook page that I am writing one. Now all I can think is that it’s going to sound stupid and should I mention this or that and OH MY GOD, I have to write it now, somebody might be waiting to read it!

Or do I flatter myself?

I don’t know if this happens to other people, but sometimes I start to write about something and realize I am telling everything and it may not be all that interesting to everybody else. And sometimes as I write it becomes a good deal less interesting to me. Or I experience other resistance, usually along the lines of, “You can’t say THAT!” or “I just don’t feel like writing about this,” neither of which ought to be given the weight they seem to demand.

I first tried to write the piece in my usual personal fashion, sharing all my dithery gyrations in getting there (my computer is telling me “dithery” is not a word, but it is exactly what I mean). I was afraid it would go too long and really be too much about me, so I tried editing as I went with no great success. Next I tried a straightforward news release style. After all, I worked in the newspaper business. I understand the inverted pyramid. Moreover, I read newspapers regularly. I ought to have internalized the structure by now. I got two paragraphs written, and they were no great shakes.

In desperation, I went to another page of my notebook and wrote, um, what you just read (oh dear, I HOPE somebody is still reading). It will have to stand as a Monday Middle-aged Musing. I will somehow get the Arts Center post done. Stay tuned.

Wrist Not On Forehead

Well, I told you it was going to be Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I know some of you thought I would feel a little bad about so many foolish posts in a row and write something more better. Well.

In my defense, I woke up with the same headache, after being plagued all night with it, I might add. I must say I felt a little ill used. These things usually don’t last that long. I took a different OTC headache remedy today. It seemed to work a little better, but I felt quite drained and light-headed.

I don’t know why I’m going on about my symptoms. How boring. Oh yeah, it’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I am expected to kvetch about my many ills on such a day.

Only I don’t feel particularly wrist to forehead at the moment. You see, it is my 23rd wedding anniversary, and I happen to have the best husband. Whatever stupid life decisions I have made (most of them; I may have mentioned that), marrying my Steven is the best decision I ever made.

We have been celebrating ever since he got home some three hours ago. Then I remembered I had not made my blog post. Before he got home, when I was still feeling quite drained and lightheaded, I almost made a two sentence post reading: I’m not making a blog post today! It’s my wedding anniversary! Would that have been better? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Did I Mention I Have a Headache?

I started to write a post about a wonderful Mohawk Valley adventure Steven and I had last night. I was writing it at the laundromat, not exactly an adventure, but in the Mohawk Valley so I technically could have written about that. The writing was not going well, because I have one of those debilitating headaches I get sometimes.

I thought no problem, I have all day. A nap will probably fix me right up. It did not. Steven came home from work at 2:30. A cup of coffee would no doubt help. It did not. We went to the Ilion Farmer’s Market anyways, yes, something else I could write a post about. But I still have a headache.

We came home. I fixed supper, which I suppose I could write about, but it was a mere recombination of leftovers in a not especially innovative way. Still, when has that stopped me? Unfortunately, you see, there’s this headache.

So I guess it’s a blogger’s sick day, because I’m not even up to writing about how I can’t seem to write, another subject I have often gotten a post out of.

Many years ago I wrote a paper for a Shakespeare class in which I kept saying things I could have gotten into, but the paper was not long enough. The professor wrote a note that he found it frustrating that all I kept talking about what I wasn’t going to talk about. He still gave me an A on the paper, so you see, I have a long history of being rewarded for folly. I hope to see you again on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.