The weather has turned for good here. Once the humidity starts, there is no stopping it until November. It has come, and with it, an irritating oppressiveness. People's smiles are turning into grimaces. We know what lies ahead. It will be a bad season for hurricanes, they say. The only palliative is rum. It mixes with anything sweet. Rum is the drink of the tropics. Only it can get you through.
I hesitate to write this since Q has become the matchbook movie critic of late, but I have been having my own Wes Anderson film festival. First, "Darjeeling Limited." What a great film. I've watched it many, many times, and still with each viewing I find new details. It is a visual movie. There are plenty of movies that concentrate on story, but Anderson is a fabulist and a visual artist extraordinaire. His films look like nothing that preceded them. He forged a new form.
Last night, I watched "The Life Aquatic." Ibid. Every time I watch this movie, I think of my old, dead ex-friend Brando. Steve Zisou is Brando. I can never get over how much so. His blatant dishonesty and disregard, and the polarizing devotion he engendered in his fan club. He steals things and takes money, and people die around him. Still, it is a most colorful life. I don't know. The film amazes me every time.
Now Q just watched "The Grand Budapest Hotel." I will probably watch it tonight. There are not enough Anderson movies to keep me going, but right now they are what I need. I have put the needle in the vein. When the drug runs out, I will have to find something or suffer badly.
So it seems.
Q sent me a fantastic article. True absinthe is being produced again in the land of its origin. I tried to order some, but it has already sold out. They are making small batches. What needs to be understood here is that it is not illegal to own absinthe in the United States. It is only illegal to sell it. Jesus, I hope I understand that right. Whatever. You are on your own. The same should be true of certain species of poppies. But again, use your own judgement.
I have a theory that I won't be able to prove, but I think it is likely. People who refuse to wear masks in public do not appreciate the fine arts. Sure, there may be exceptions, but I think by and large it is true. They would rather attend a football game or a NASCAR race than go to a museum. Now, you might wonder, what if you like to do both? My guess? You wear a homemade mask. I'm just guessing, but it could be true. In the time of fake news, you can say anything. Someone will believe it.
ReplyDeleteI walked with a friend this morning - just three miles through a new conservation area - oh - right where we found the lost dog - but we took a different route - under a road through an old cow tunnel. It was cool. Big old swamp cedar trees. I would have loved to have been looking - for nature things but Cathy doesn't really do that - it is about swift walking and for her - talking the whole time. (as she often does - I know it might seem like I am a huge talker but if there is someone else to do it - and we are not talking about things that truly grip me - I'm an excellent silent partner and/or questioner or dead pan one-liner deliverer). Every once in a while she'll ask me a question - and I give my one or two word answer and it turns right back to her. Again. Fine. No problem. If someone isn't really interested - genuinely interested - in talking with me - I'm good nurturing the others need to communicate.
Especially today because we are still locked down - for the most part - and I haven't talked to anyone socially - like voice to voice - except family and the Green Beret. I mean a "hi" and a little convo with my neighbors - but - It is hard to "get back." I think.. Well. For me.
I'm scared. And I'm not scared of much. This "thing" is in my head.
I'd like a nice group of mask wearing fine art/museum lovers to be with though. We'd find plenty to talk and laugh about I'm sure. And I would cook up a storm. And we could have cocktails under the grape arbor and later move to the deck and later to the She Shed. And then inside.
Sigh.
The G.B. went to the socially distanced bbq - he was kind to say "It felt hollow and wrong without you." I think it is because I do smile a lot and listen. And make them laugh. I dunno. I guess I might have alienated the host by not going -GB said he wasn't happy about my rejection of the invitation.
The "other side" of this - sometimes I can't stop thinking about it.
You can't see any smiling here -outside in the world - everyone is required to wear a mask or not be served. I'm a smiler - so it's really strange.
I enjoy absinthe and wish I had some. It is so foggy and pretty when ready to drink. I drank my last bottle with the crew I didn't bbq with - sometime around Tom's death anniversary I think.
I have poppies. I wish I knew how to make them to opium.
The weather here - hate to say - is perfect. Except for the pollen and my allergies - it is like a Wes movie out there. Colors like a fairy tale. Greens and the buds & flowers - hell my poppies look ridiculous right now. And the buds on the peonies are bulging. I cant wait for them. *shudder*. I will put my face right in their folds and ahhhhhhh. The green though - and the sky and the light - well you know. You get it down there for a spell.
Other than Asian inspired noodles and broth - I seem to be having a problem with mushrooms - (not the magic tho I have those too) - no I'm talking shiitake, oyster - all kinds. I just made my brunch - first I sauteed the shiitakes - then added the beaten egg and some sliced swiss cheese topped it off with - tabasco. Quite nice. The texture of the shiitakes is so perfect.
I should go downstairs and work in the office - and I will. But the sun is shining. My belly full - I think I'll change out of these walking clothes and take in some sun. Like a lizard -I'll store up the heat/light to use for later when the temps drop again tonight.
Oh. Did I mention the BEST thing I purchased so far during this TOC -
https://hellotushy.com/products/warm-water-bidet-tushy-spa
EASY to install. Amazing. I might have mentioned it but talking about all this dull poop reminded me. :).
Okies. As someone once said to me before he himself was sucked into space:
"I Love You But You Don't Know What You're Talking About"
:).
You're talking about eating and drinking and washing your butt. There are only certain species of poppies that produce opium. It is easy to gather. You just cut the bud and it leaks out like rubber or molasses. Then you scrape it off and roll it into a ball. That is all there is to it. I think. I've never even seen it, but that is what I've read.
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