For reasons compounded chiefly of scheduling and health, I have barely slept all week. This evening I fell asleep for about three minutes on my parents' couch and dreamed I was home in my own bed. That was different.
Earlier in the afternoon while it was still sort of pathetically raining, a box of gifts from![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladymondegreen and household landed on our porch. I have two new tweed vests, a sticker sheet of starry cats, and the BFI Blu-Ray of Roddy McDowall's Tam Lin (1970) among other largesse. I am counting it all as housewarming and much welcome.
I was not necessarily indifferent to Ray Milland, but he had never been an actor I watched for as opposed to an actor I enjoyed whenever they happened to turn up, but at the start of this weekspatch and I decided to check out The Safecracker (1958) on TCM and now after a near-straight run of Night into Morning (1951), Dial M for Murder (1954), and It Happens Every Spring (1949), it seems that I watch for Ray Milland. He doesn't even have a face I have many intrinsic feelings about. Fortunately, he does interesting things with it.
I found and read to Rob H.D.'s "R.A.F." (1941), whose last stanza haunts me.
Earlier in the afternoon while it was still sort of pathetically raining, a box of gifts from
ladymondegreen and household landed on our porch. I have two new tweed vests, a sticker sheet of starry cats, and the BFI Blu-Ray of Roddy McDowall's Tam Lin (1970) among other largesse. I am counting it all as housewarming and much welcome.I was not necessarily indifferent to Ray Milland, but he had never been an actor I watched for as opposed to an actor I enjoyed whenever they happened to turn up, but at the start of this week
spatch and I decided to check out The Safecracker (1958) on TCM and now after a near-straight run of Night into Morning (1951), Dial M for Murder (1954), and It Happens Every Spring (1949), it seems that I watch for Ray Milland. He doesn't even have a face I have many intrinsic feelings about. Fortunately, he does interesting things with it.I found and read to Rob H.D.'s "R.A.F." (1941), whose last stanza haunts me.
