Category Archives: Wuss Out Wednesday

Covered Bridges on Wuss-out Wednesday

So here I sit on Wuss-out Wednesday, and not a word comes to mind to type.  Now I am sternly resisting the urge to backspace over what I just typed in.  I know it is not very good, but if I start that type-it-in-backspace-it-out I’ll never finish this post.  As I like to do in these situations, I looked for some photos to use.

 

Ah, summer is coming!

This is an old Vermont post card.  It is of special interest to me, because my husband Steven and two of his nephews are in it.  They were swimming beneath the covered bridge as they often did when the photographer came along.

A little blurry, but pretty cool!

Here is a closer view.  My silly computer won’t make this one any bigger.  I daresay you couldn’t see the participants much better anyways.  I wish I could find another shot to include!

Found one!

I don’t know any of these people.

I actually found a different one on Facebook and downloaded it.  Then when I went to upload it into this post, I saw this one in our downloads.  Steven must have downloaded it.  I don’t know from where or when.  It fits in better with the previous two than the other.  Then again, why not buck my usual trend and include four photographs?

Different bridge, different season, but isn’t it pretty?

I’ve driven by this bridge many times on trips to Vermont.   It is in West Arlington.  I can give a credit for this one:  John H. Knox of Vermont Four Seasons Photography.  I do like to give credit where credit is due.

So this is my silly post for today.  Heavy on pictures, light on words.  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Stop Whining and Blog!

First, the answer to yesterday’s trivia question is, “Nobody’s perfect.”  Didactic sorts (you know who you are) will point out that these word are not being spoken at the exact moment of that photo, but those are the words that are most apropos to me.  That being said, what about today’s blog post?  Oh dear.

I am having the most dreadful time lately.  I feel as if I am dragging myself through each day.  As soon as I typed that, I said to myself, “Don’t put that! That’s just whining!  Stop whining!”  It cannot be denied that I almost always have enough energy to whine about something.  That fact should prove to me that I have enough energy for other things, if only I would consent to exert it.  So here I am typing, and while I am not exactly dragging each word out of my recalcitrant brain, things are not flowing freely.  What, I ask, is a blogger to do?  No, really, I’m asking.  What should I do?  Anybody?  Bueller?

When in doubt, look for a picture.  After some moments of indecision, I decided on this one:

Pretty cool old building, isn’t it?

This is the old Frankfort Town Hall, in Frankfort, NY, which, for non-local readers, is close to Herkimer.  In fact, when Steven and I were looking for a house, we looked at several in Frankfort.  It is a nice little village, home of the Friendly Bake Shop, the Locavore, the Knight Spot, and other local businesses well worthy of Mohawk Valley Girl’s notice.  Alas, this building stands empty now.

I got the picture from The Mohawk Valley Through the Lens, a Facebook page I follow.   There are lot of swell pictures there.  I picked this one, because I have actually seen the building.  Looking through other photos on the page, I found another of a place I’ve been:

They’ll probably have some swell bands here this summer.

This is the Herkimer Marina near Gems Along the Mohawk and the Waterfront Grille, two of my favorite places.  I hope to go on an Erie Canal Cruise this summer.  I will write a blog post about it if I do.

I see now that I am over 300 words, a quite respectable number for a Wednesday, Wuss-out or not.  Additionally, I have to leave soon for rehearsal for Who Shot JS? my latest murder mystery (which I believe I have mentioned once or twice).  I hope to see you all on Thursday, which may or may not be of the Non-Sequitur variety.

 

Mid-week Moniker?

As I was writing one of my articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine, I referred to myself as “Mohawk Valley Girl, lover of local.”  I think that is a fine moniker.  Additionally, I think “moniker” is a good word.

Are you sensing a Wuss-out Wednesday here?  I was thinking more along the lines of Mid-week Middle-aged Musings, which I have not had in a while.  The point is, I’m not feeling well.  I’m afraid it is that stomach bug I hear is going around.  Well, I won’t gross you out with my symptoms (unless you piss me off, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?).

Thinking of my love of local, though, I am making a few plans for the weekend.  Friday, Steven and I hope to go to Heidelberg Bakery for breakfast.  We will purchase a couple of loaves of their bread to bring to Easter dinner at my parents’ house.  It is our usual contribution to the feast.  Later on, we may get together with my sister, Cheryl, for further adventures.  She recently discovered a new antique shop.  Of course I mean new to us.  I did not mean to be oxymoronic with “new antique”  (my computer is underlining “oxymoronic,” but if “moronic” is a word and “oxymoron” is a word, why not “oxymoronic”?  I ask you).

I plan to run Friday, Saturday and Sunday, having, you guessed it, taken yesterday, today and tomorrow off (too busy AND flu bug, but I’m sure I’ll feel better by Friday).  Perhaps it will be the start of a streak.  I’ll see how many days in a row I can run.  I am, of course, preparing for the Utica Boilermaker 15K, a premier road race and marvelous local event.  I may do some other community runs this summer.

I will also attempt to write more blog posts of interest.  More interesting than my abdominal ills and what I like to call myself?  We can hope!  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Picture Me Not Making a Blog Post

One of the finest casts ever to grace the Ilion Little Theatre stage.

When your brain fails, look for a picture to post.

Hmmm…  What kind of a Freudian slip do you suppose made me first type “ficture”?  Would that be a “fictional picture” or perhaps a combination of “fail” and “picture”?  That’s it!  I failed to come up with a blog post, so I looked for a picture!  These things are really very simple, when you get right down to it.

In any case, the above picture is from Leading Ladies, the play I had the delightful experience of directing for Ilion Little Theatre last spring.  I would love to work with any and all of those people again.

I’m the one with the really short hair.

This is a backstage selfie, done with a selfie stick (don’t judge).  This one includes me and the backstage crew.  It was a month after I participated in a St. Baldrick’s Day fundraiser.  I miss my short ‘do.  I thought it was sophisticated (or do I flatter myself?).

 

And in this one, I seem to be getting what some people feel I richly deserve.

I don’t have another shot of the Leading Ladies cast, so I will include this one of the Rubbed Our at Ruby’s gang (I use the term advisedly).

I guess I’m going to call this a Wordless Wednesday post, which I understand is a thing.  It has a nicer ring to it than Wuss-out Wednesday, which some may feel is more accurate.  Then again, who am I to judge?  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Can You Dig It?

Well, it is Wuss-out Wednesday today.  I got the day off work due to Winter Storm Stella (I like “winter storm” better than “nor’easter”; it makes me feel like I’m under 70 and I still have all my teeth) (was that a dreadful thing to say?  There is nothing wrong with being over 70 and toothless; I may be there myself one day) (but this is not that day).

Where was I?  Ah yes, telling you a little about my day.  The best part was going back to bed after I got up and found out all shifts were cancelled at my place of employment.  The worst part was spending over two and a half hours shoveling the driveway. However, even that had its moments.

I wanted to take some “before” pictures for this blog.  When the extent of the task became apparent, I abandoned the Tablet and just started digging.  For another reason, I was afraid the sheer whiteness of the view would make it harder to see where the snow ended.  I could barely see where the snow ended, and I was right there.

Our neighbor, who owns half the two car garage and has driveway rights, had snow-blowed a path from his half of the garage (where he keeps his snowblower) to the sidewalk.  That definitely helped, because the rest of the driveway was quite impassible.  I think he also blew out the very end of our driveway, because although it was completely filled in by the plow, it did not look as deep as other areas.  We dug and dug. I tried to keep my spirits up.

“We are bad-hyphen-ass,” I assured Steven.  Many things become more bearable if you can feel that you are bad-ass when you do them.  I paused to admire the bare trees against the grey sky.  No, I did not make it back outside to take a picture of those.  Sorry.

I sang, “High Hopes,” you know, with the verse about that little old ant who thinks he can move a rubber tree plant.  I tried to put new words and make the song about us, but I could not think of a word for “old farts” and a word for “snowbank” that rhymed.

“How you doing, honey?  How you feeling?”  I kept asking Steven.  This was not just me being silly.  People have heart attacks while shoveling snow all the time, and my husband is not a young man.  He also does not lead the healthiest of lifestyles, but perhaps I can help him improve on that.

At one point, the neighbor kids were out playing.  The boy did a cannonball off his deck into the snow.

“I wanted to do that!” I said.  Unfortunately, I did no such thing.  As we shoveled, my feet and hands were becoming more and more cold.

Finally we decided that good enough was good enough.  Both vehicles are clear enough to move, with enough space to make it to the road.  It ain’t beautiful, but it’ll do.  I hit the showers.

And almost cried when the warm water hit my toes! My thighs, which were bright red, stung like hell as well.  What a dreadful feeling!  It is good we did not take any longer than we did with our shoveling.  I do not need to lose any toes to frostbite; I need them to count to twenty!

 

Tired After Typing on Wuss-out Wednesday

I interrupt my typing to… type something else.  I have been typing into my laptop the script for He Laughed Himself to Death, the interactive murder mystery dinner theatre to be presented by Ilion Little Theatre at Morningstar Methodist Church in Ilion, NY on April 1. Phew, that was a mouthful.

Yes, I am late getting the script typed up, but we have not started rehearsals yet, so I am OK.  Luckily, murder mysteries do not take as much rehearsal time as full-length plays.

The murder mystery takes place at a special stockholders meeting of Gorman’s Gotchas, a company that makes novelty jokes such as plastic poo, whoopy cushions, exploding cigars, etc.  The founder of the company, Norman Gorman, wants to sell out to a conglomerate called Corporate Realignment Associated Products, but others in the company do not want to sell.  They are also a little tired of Norman’s incessant practical joking.  I really think I need to go to the store and purchase some plastic poo.  To  inspire myself if nothing else.

I have experienced this problem before:  I spend some good time working on another writing project, then I have no oomph left to make my blog post.  Then again, I did threaten yesterday to have a Wuss-out Wednesday today.  I wonder if I will be able to manage something better than a Non-Sequitur Thursday tomorrow.  Oh dear.

In my defense, Steel Magnolias opened last weekend and continues this weekend.  True, I have not had rehearsals every night this week as I did last week.  But I am still tired.  I am not a young woman, and I do not lead the healthiest lifestyle.  I’ll have to work on that.  I’ll be sure to write a blog post about it when I do.

 

One Of These Plays…

You know, like “One of these days…”  I thought it was an acceptable play on words.  What else can I do on Wuss-out Wednesday but play a little bit with words?  Yes, Wuss-out Wednesday follows Tired Tuesday as inevitably as… as inevitably as I begin a simile and can’t think of a good way to finish it.

I tried to write a blog post while at work today, but it was only another I Can’t Write a Post post, and I thought, why am I writing such a thing in advance?  Should I not be composing at the keyboard at such times?  So that is what I am doing.

We are doing complete run-through on Steel Magnolias, last night, tonight and tomorrow.  We must be in full costume by Monday, but the director would be delighted to see costumes any time between now and then. With that in mind, I put on the skirt I think will do for me in Act I Scene 1.  I purchased a jacket I think will coordinate with it last Saturday at New 2 You Consignment Shop in Ilion (perhaps you read my blog post about it).

Regarding the rest of my costumes… I’m working on them.  Quite frankly, I thought I had more stuff than I in fact do.  Oh dear, I suppose some of my cast-mates might read this and they will look sternly at me when they see me in.. yikes, less than an hour!  At least I looked over my lines today.  And other people’s.  I learn my own lines first, so for the first couple of rehearsals off book I sometimes say them at the wrong time.  How embarrassing.  Other actors learn their lines and where those lines go at the same time.  I’ll have to try that one of these plays.

 

Too Much Theatre?

It’s that moment when you are pondering what, oh what, to make a blog post about and you’ve got just about enough time to do it, and you find out your rehearsal is at 6 not 6:30.  Oh NO!  I can’t handle it! (Said in a dramatic tone of voice, posing with my wrist to my forehead).  Incidentally, it is rehearsal for Steel Magnolias at Ilion Little Theatre, which will be presented the first two weekends in March.

I’m thinking it’s Wuss-out Wednesday, but given that last parenthetical comment, perhaps it is Wrist to Forehead Wednesday.  The sad thing is my husband had just started to tell me a story about his past.  I may have heard it before, but I do not mind a re-run.  That is one of the secrets to a happy marriage (not a very well-kept secret). (A lesser known secret is to have a husband that tells good stories). I guess he’ll have to tell me later.

AND we are watching WKTV News at five, where I believe there is to be a NewsTalk about Rubbed Out at Ruby’s, the murder mystery to be presented by LiFT Theatre Company at the Overlook Mansion in Little Falls. DVR to the rescue!

You may have noticed that I am a little stressed lately.  I have mysteries to write, costumes to find, lines to learn and blog posts to make.  And who’s fault is it that I have too much on my plate?  That’s right, the overriding problem in my life is ALWAYS Operator Error.  Maybe I can get caught up on the weekend.  But don’t count on it.  Happy Wednesday, everyone.

 

Favorite Ghouls on Wuss-out Wednesday

I am so tired right now, I think all I can manage is a Wuss-out Wednesday post.  It is Wednesday, right?  Earlier today, I was wishing it was Thursday.  Then I reminded myself of a morning I got out of my car and thought, “Why can’t it be Thursday instead of Wednesday?”  then I thought, “You idiot, it’s Tuesday.”  I may have shared that memory before, but I still think it is funny.

10340131_845560792174287_764692436052673151_n

Two of my all-time favorite ghouls.

This is what I immediately thought of at the time.   This is Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff.  I never knew which movie the shot is from but I believe that is not the original dialog.  I used it as my Facebook cover photo for a while. Now I realize I should not have put it in a Wuss-out Wednesday post but in a Tired Tuesday post.  Which just goes to show you how often I do the wrong thing.  But now that I’ve put in a photo, I’d kind of like to put in a couple more.  I wonder what I can find.

13198665_1143657345685944_3464713271594157157_o

She’s really not that into him.

Speaking of favorite ghouls, who doesn’t love Vincent Price?  This is from House of Wax, one of my go-to horror movies.  Price is in love with his Marie Antoinette.  How Pygmalion of him.  Before the film can really explore the creepiness of that infatuation, the place goes up in flames and Price becomes a villain, deformed in body and spirit.  I don’t know where I’m going with that.  Perhaps the next time I watch the movie, I’ll write a scholarly essay on Hollywood’s missed opportunities.

14333828_1759096074340373_2228074671709883598_n

Aren’t they cool?

Just to finish out the theme of favorite ghouls, here is a photo Steven has shared on Facebook so it was in our downloads.  Christopher Lee, Vincent Price and John Carradine.  At least, Steven says it is John Carradine.  I had thought it was Peter Cushing.  How classless is that, that I’m going to publish this without making sure of my information.  That’s how I roll on Wuss-out Wednesday.

 

We Can’t All Be the Grinch

My house is back online, just in time for Wuss-out Wednesday.  Instead of sitting at Basloe Library (a perfectly wonderful place to be, but I have to wear a bra and shoes ) I am lounged on my couch.  But it is still Wuss-out Wednesday.  My brain is dead.  My body is not doing much better, but my purpose is not to complain but to blog, possibly to entertain.  At least I may entertain myself.  That’s something.

Steven is watching The Year Without a Santa Claus.  Yay, Snow Miser and Heat Miser!  Did anybody here Big Bad Voodoo Daddy’s cover of their song?  An awesome rendition.  However, I have a few problems with this special.  I guess I could do worse for a Wuss-out Wednesday post than mention them.

A friend pointed out that the whole plot is a little shaky.  The two elves go in search of Christmas spirit so Santa will not take the day off.  Then the mayor says if it will snow, he will get all the mayors together and give Santa… the day off!  I gotta say what I say when confronted with a plot hole in a cheesy horror movie:  Waaaaait a minute!

My first problem happens before the elves take off, though.  Mrs. Claus has the wonderful song, “Anyone Can Be Santa Claus,” her first plan being to impersonate the fat man herself.  I quite frankly thought (the first time I saw it, and I still think it) that this is a marvelous idea.  Of course anyone can be Santa Claus!  All you have to do is give somebody something! EVERYBODY should be Santa Claus!  But, no, Mrs. Claus is shot down almost immediately.  SHE can’t be Santa Claus.  Only the REAL Santa Claus will do.

Now don’t tell me it would have been a shorter story if Mrs. Claus had just delivered the toys.  They could have  put in a lot of twists and turns if they had gone with that plot line.  No, I’m not going to write it.  If you can’t think of any twists and turns yourself, just take my word for it.

The biggest problem I have always had with this special is the same one I have with almost all the Christmas specials about Santa Claus.  Christmas = presents.   All I can hear in my head is Boris Karloff saying, “Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store.  Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

Well I won’t wax philosophical about that tonight (regular readers know that half-baked philosophy belongs on Lame Post Friday).   I’ll just enjoy the fun music and charming animation (so retro), while I ponder the Christmas spirit.  I hope you are all having a lovely December so far.