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Is a Throwback a Non-Sequitur?

Good evening and welcome to Non-Sequitur Thursday.  I am tired as I can be… OK, that is an exaggeration.  I bet I could be a lot more tired, for example, if I had gone running again today or cleaned my house or worked overtime or… see? I’m making myself more tired just by thinking about it.  Actually, now that I think about all the things I have not done today, I feel a little bit ill-used for being so tired.  What the hell, me?

Never mind all that.  I have a blog post to make.  Just now as I was casting about in my rather mushy brain for an idea, I remembered, Throwback Thursday.  People on Facebook post pictures from the past. Maybe I could do that!  I could even be non-sequiturish about it.  I bet I have some good stuff in my Media Library.  Let’s look…

I am not sure what he is looking at.

This is our late, much missed poocher, Spunky.  I guess sometimes Throwback Thursday can sometimes make you melancholy.

I can’t even believe what he is telling me to say.

Here is something more cheerful.  This is my husband, Steven, and I  as Dr. Chumley and Veda in the Ilion Little Theatre production of Harvey in the spring on 2012.  I believe I wrote a few blog posts about it at the time.

These days we use champagne flutes.

Now here is a REAL Throwback Thursday shot!  This is our wedding in October of 1990.  Look how young and cute we were!  I suppose we’re still kind of cute, for a couple of old folks (some people call us old something else that begins with an f, but I do not care to be vulgar).

I think three pictures is good for a foolish post when I’m tired.  Now all I have to do is slap on a snappy headline and I’m done.  I hope people will tune in again tomorrow on Lame Post Friday.  I will probably be quite flustered, because I will be about to leave for the performance of Strike Story  with LiFt Theatre Company in Little Falls.  I’m sure I’ve mentioned it.  I bet I even included a link to the Facebook event.  I just did again.  So this is not a completely useless post.  Happy Thursday, everyone.



Red Wine, Red Blood, Happy New Year!

So there I was, ready to get this New Year’s Eve party started.  I only lacked my husband Steven (the only other guest expected since Spunky the dog was already here) and all the food I said I was going to fix.  I thought it would be a good idea to open a bottle of wine, so I could sip a little while I chopped and mixed.  And then things got ugly.  A short time later, I was posting the following on Facebook:

“So I open a bottle of wine, so I can enjoy a libation while I fix the snacks. Somehow a chip gets broken off the rim of the bottle, and I cut my thumb! It’s bleeding big red drops (although a very pretty color)! I get a Band-aid on it and go to cry on Facebook, and it’s STILL bleeding! I fortunately do not bleed on my laptop. I employ pressure and elevation for a short time and it seems to have done the trick. Then I see my thumb is bleeding from two places. Two Band-aids later, I wonder if I can be trusted with a knife.”

It really does seem OK, but you know what a drama queen I am (it’s a little awkward to hit the space bar with the band-aids on my thumb)  (it is my right hand, by the way).  I thought it might be a good idea to make my blog post before attempting any further culinary adventures.  I’m even thinking in a vague sort of way of sending out for pizza and making all the fun party snacks I planned tomorrow instead.

In the meantime, I had meant to write my blog post about quite a different thing.  I was going to talk about resolutions vs goals and strive for some profound thoughts about improving myself.  Or I was going to get all introspective about the passage of time and change and our own perceptions of what makes a good year.  I even had some vague notion of musing on these artificial milestones we invent for ourselves:  Why is one revolution around the sun called a year?  Who even figured out how we got back to the same place in the planetary ellipse?

And here I am, doing what once got a professor really annoyed with me:  writing about what I’m not going to write about (in my defense, he only wanted a two page paper; how much could I say in that?).  My thumb is fine; my wine glass is almost empty.  However, I feel disinclined to begin cooking or refill the glass, because a little dog (above-mentioned third guest at the party) is snuggled up next to me so cozily, I hate to disturb him.  Happy New Year, everyone.


Another Sinus Headache Saturday

Well, I thought it was a sinus headache, so I took a decongestant, and it was downhill from there.  This is so embarrassing!  But I can only press on from where I am, so here is my Not So Scattered Saturday post.

In less than two hours I have to be at the 1834 Jail in Herkimer  (uh, I’m in Herkimer now, I live in Herkimer; I just thought I’d specify for the benefit of readers who are unfamiliar with the information) (or maybe I am still punchy from the drugs) to participate in the Haunted Tour of the Historic Four Corners.  Regular readers know I am a great fan of Herkimer’s Historic Four Corners as well as an aficionado of all things haunted, so this event is made to order for me.  Additionally, one of the ghosts who may or may not haunt the general vicinity is Roxalana Druse, who I memorably portrayed in the Ilion Little Theatre production of Roxy in 2015 (perhaps you read some of my blog posts about it) (and you needn’t think I am being an egotist by saying mine was a memorable portrayal; many people remember it, not just me).

Where was I?  Ah yes, trying to make a blog post.  I did run this morning, before taking the decongestant, so I could have done a Running Commentary post.  Also, I walked my dog, Spunky, for longer than the walk I made a post about yesterday, so I suppose I could have ventured to do two Pedestrian Posts in a row.  I have really done nothing else, except for the dishes.  I feel washing the dishes was something of an accomplishment but am disinclined to write a blog post about it.

Right now I am sitting on my couch with my dog snuggled up close. I hate to move and discommode him, although I am getting a hot flash.  Oh, the tribulations of middle age!  No matter.  I see I am over 300 words. Score!  That counts as a blog post in my twisted world.  Perhaps I can write more about the Historic Four Corners tomorrow. In the meantime, Happy Saturday.


I Liked Philo’s Dog

This week I offer Mystery Movie Monday. I would prefer Monster Movie Monday, but I didn’t have a monster movie to hand. Instead, I asked Steven to make a selection from his DVD set of 50 Mystery Classics. He chose The Kennel Murders (1933), a Philo Vance mystery.

Spoiler Alert! I probably won’t give away the solution, because I didn’t properly understand it, but I will certainly give away some major plot points.

I was a little concerned to see the word “kennel” in the title, knowing Hollywood’s history of NOT being kind to animals (perhaps you read my blog post about it). I did not want to watch a movie where dogs die.

Sure enough, a dog gets murdered. Philo does not seem too exercised about that murder, although the dog’s owner threatens to kill whoever did it. I was not clear on who did do it, and I couldn’t figure out how it fit in with the rest of the plot. Then again, as regular readers know, I don’t always pay a whole lot of attention to these things. Another dog gets hit on the head with a poker, which does figure in, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The movie opens on a dog show. There is Philo Vance with an extremely cute Scotty dog. His dog does not win, but Philo loves him. So there’s one reason to like Philo Vance, at any rate.

Next we meet a beautiful heiress (is there another kind?) who can’t seem to get any of her own money from her unpleasant trustee or guardian or whatever he is to her besides unpleasant. It’s pretty clear who the victim is going to be and there will be no shortage of suspects.

It is a bit of a surprise later on when one of the suspects who was starting to look really good (as a suspect, I mean) ends up dead. I guess I should have seen that coming. After all, it’s “murders” plural in the tile, and I’m pretty sure they didn’t count the dog.

The dog that gets hit on the head seems to make a full recovery and I guess helps solve the mystery. Or helps Philo prove he has correctly solved the mystery. Like I said, the solution kind of mystified me. As is often the case, the “proof” would never hold up in a court of law. For that matter, the medical evidence was pretty spurious, too. But these are mere quibbles. One must take movie mysteries at their own estimation or not at all.

Philo’s dog has a pretty good scene where he shows Philo something important. I just love a cute little dog.

In retrospect, I’m thinking it might have been a good idea if I had paid more attention to the movie, maybe made a few notes, before I tried to write about it. Then again, it’s Monday.

Short Stroll, Scratch n Sniff

It is really difficult to have Mohawk Valley adventures during the winter. Another difficult thing: making a blog post when a cute little dog expects you to keep petting her. Naturally I do my best to oblige.

Yesterday we went for a walk. I thought for sure it would be warmer today so we might go for a longer one. Well, it may be warmer, but the snow is coming down in copious amounts and has been doing so all day. Tabby may enjoy plowing through the drifts up to her chest, but she does not seem to like being out while it is actually precipitating. Perhaps we could have a rousing game of That’s My Toy later on.

In the meantime, I will attempt a short pedestrian post about yesterday’s stroll. Once again I forgot to put my scarf back on (I had it when I got home from work), so my face got cold. I had not put Tabby’s coat on her, but she seemed OK with that. She certainly enjoyed sniffing many places. I don’t think the snow is conducive to dogs’ sense of smell, because Tabby kept digging and sniffing. I kept checking to make sure she wasn’t unburying some other dog’s poo.

“You don’t need to smell that dog’s poo,” I tell her. “You know what poo smells like.”

Her head perked up as we walked down Henry Street, because she saw people. One adult and three children were in front of a house. The man and little boy seemed to be shoveling. Two little girls were in a fort. I haven’t built a snow fort in a long time! We exchanged greetings. Tabby seemed inclined to go right up to them.

“My dog is so friendly,” I said.

Tabby seemed quite happy that our walk was short. She ran right for the door instead of out into the back yard when I took her off the leash. I was happy to get back into the warm house, too.

I see that as a blogger, I should have taken up some winter sports, so I would have more to write about this time of year. Hmmmm…. perhaps I could patronize some local businesses instead. Or watch another cheesy movie. Still, I’ve come up with over 1,000 posts. I can’t quit now.