I don't know why I dreamed last night that my brother had joined the army and a commercial jet crashed into a nonexistent apartment complex on the other side of the Arlington Reservoir, but somehow I find it difficult to believe the thought of getting up at six in the morning to wait in line for a turkey at Debra's Natural Gourmet was an appropriate provocation. I was very tired, but not particularly terrified. But now we have a turkey, around which I will be making things like pumpkin tagine and clementine-jícama salad and mushroom-spinach panade, because I like that sort of thing—if all goes well, desserts will include pumpkin-ginger rice pudding and a fruit gratin with Calvados and mascarpone. I'm just hoping my back won't interfere. I hurt it this weekend helping my brother repaint the steps and the front walk and it hasn't fixed itself yet. So far I've gotten through several important preparatory steps for tomorrow's cooking without immobilizing myself, but interacting with the oven is not going to be fun this year.
Earlier today my mother asked me why she recognizes Michael Gough's name. I told her The Small Back Room (1949), The Man in the White Suit (1951), Horror of Dracula (1958), Alice in Wonderland (1966) . . . Apparently it's his birthday; he's ninety-three. I am taking this as an excuse to post about The Horse's Mouth (1958), since he's in the supporting cast and it's a film I've meant to write up for some time. I watched it last Wednesday with Viking Zen. It's about art.
( Would you rather I cut his liver out without phoning? )
To bed. It annoys me that I've been awake for eighteen hours on two hours of sleep and I'm still unlikely to fall asleep before dawn. I will read Leigh Brackett and see what happens.
Earlier today my mother asked me why she recognizes Michael Gough's name. I told her The Small Back Room (1949), The Man in the White Suit (1951), Horror of Dracula (1958), Alice in Wonderland (1966) . . . Apparently it's his birthday; he's ninety-three. I am taking this as an excuse to post about The Horse's Mouth (1958), since he's in the supporting cast and it's a film I've meant to write up for some time. I watched it last Wednesday with Viking Zen. It's about art.
( Would you rather I cut his liver out without phoning? )
To bed. It annoys me that I've been awake for eighteen hours on two hours of sleep and I'm still unlikely to fall asleep before dawn. I will read Leigh Brackett and see what happens.
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