Tag Archives: Agatha Christie’s The Pale Horse BBC

Let’s Keep Washing, Gang!!

I am definitely not a germ-o-phobe by any stretch, but this virus is starting to push the limits of my non-germ-o-phobia, that’s for sure.

I did three teeny-tiny loads of laundry yesterday, only because I kept wondering which clothes the clothes I was wearing might have touched or brushed up against, even by accident, when I came in from my big trip to town yesterday. (If you’re using google translate, good luck with that paragraph.)

And then I kept washing my hands — did I touch that when I came in? Oh, but now I’ve touched it for sure, should I wash my hands again? Better safe than sorry.

And then: Is my throat sore? Am I getting a sore throat or does my throat always feel like this? I seem fine but my throat feels like it might be getting sore…

All fucking day. I did manage to keep it from getting out of hand, but still. Just that one quick trip into town to go to the market and my mind started to unravel.

Luckily, I am only going to have to make one trip into town each week.

Here’s something I’m going to tell my dad today and I’m sure he’ll be pleased as punch to hear it: the World Health Organization has issued a recommendation that people not listen to the news more than twice a day. I’m sure he’ll point out that he only turns the news on once and then turns it off, however, in the middle of that is the entire day.

Anyway, I’ll give it a shot and we’ll see how it goes.

I did have sort of a rough evening last night. I watched the second half of Agatha Christie’s The Pale Horse (BBC, 2019) and I saw why people gave it such bad reviews. I still enjoyed it overall, but the second half had a lot more violence in it, and the ending was so rushed it was almost incomprehensible. It would have benefited from being a 3-part show instead of a 2-part show. And I wound up feeling like the original version the BBC did probably about 15 years ago or so was a lot better, even though it veered widely from the original story.

Then I switched over to the reruns of DCI Banks and, oh my god, the episode that started streaming automatically started out so bloody and creepy and then turned out to be all about rape. Which you can guess, I just enjoy the hell out of. (And it isn’t so much the actual rape stuff that bothers me, it’s the fact that everyone cares so much that the rape happened and they all need to band together to get the rapes to stop because it is just so terrible and it’s enraging everyone; whereas in my own experience, no one at all cared in the slightest bit that I had been raped — and more than once. Culturally, nobody gave a shit about rape back then. That’s the part that is hard for me to handle, even after all these decades.)

I finally made myself turn it off, but I was only 20 minutes from the end of the show. So I had sat there for quite a while last evening (nearly 3 hours), creeping myself out and wondering the whole time: is my throat getting sore?

But I slept great and I am very happy today, and my throat is absolutely not sore and I’m not stressing about anything at all. I’m planning to get some good work done on In the Shadow of Narcissa today, too.

Oh, plus, I forgot to thank whoever that was on Saturday night who downloaded a free copy of Twilight of the Immortal!!!! That was really nice to see. Thank you.

I’m not going to keep posting all the numbers re: the pandemic, but I will say that over 100,000 people have now recovered from the virus, and overall, we are still holding at 95% of the active cases worldwide being mild. So, you know, keep washing, but it’s in the process of moving through. Never lose sight of that.

I thought you might like to see a photo of the inside of my refrigerator.  I had my phone with me at the kitchen table this morning and when I opened my fridge, it was almost too much. it’s just so fucking healthy, who the hell wants to eat anymore?

Inside my boring fridge!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay. On that lofty note!

I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning! Thanks for visiting, gang, and have a wonderful Monday, wherever you are in the world! Try not to get stressed. Stay focused on the miracle of the human body, and on the undercurrent of love that runs throughout our very beingness; let it all work its unfathomable miracles in this crucial time, okay? I love you guys. See ya!

A Fond Goodnight to An Interesting Day!

I spent almost the entire day working on In the Shadow of Narcissa, trying to outline it, actually. Sort of “do the math” on it. It covers my childhood in 3 houses, over the space of 9 years, and I want it to be less than 40 pages.

So it seems like there could be a tidy math equation in there that could help me structure it.

I’m still a bit stymied, but I think I’m at least focused in the right direction. I’m feeling like I’d like to get that book finished and start circulating it with publishers by late Spring.

Well, okay.

Here in Ohio, the virus has ballooned to 247  confirmed cases today. Most of them seem to be in the northern part of the State, or concentrated in nursing homes. 3 elderly people have died –aged between 76 – 91.  If you don’t live in America and don’t know Ohio, it is densely populated — about 11.75 million people live here (although almost no one lives in Crazeysburg).  And even though there is a lot of farmland in the State, just a heck of a lot of people live in the main cities (i.e., Cleveland, Cincinnati, Columbus). And each city has (or had until recently) a busy international airport.

I’m hoping my dad won’t go out now for a few days. He has people to buy him groceries so he shouldn’t need to go out. But he is going really stir crazy. It just feels like the virus is peaking now, though, and he is almost 90.

This evening, I started watching a new version of Agatha Christie’s The Pale Horse (BBC).  For some reason, it got bad reviews, but I’m really loving it. It’s nothing at all like the original but I think it’s really fun. And the acting, of course, is through the roof. As it usually is on all these BBC whodunits. (And a lush budget, of course — the cars, the costumes, the sets!). It’s a nice way to pass the evening.

I cannot remember now why I was thinking about this, but earlier today I was thinking about that song called “Sodomy,” from the Broadway musical Hair. It’s a really short song but it’s full of nothing but dirty words. When I was 8 years old, I knew that song (and almost all the songs from Hair) by heart. I had no clue what any of those songs meant, although my brother seemed to know. (My older brother and I played that record all the time and for some weird reason, our mom let us.)

(It’s so strange, when you think of how intolerant she was about so many things, but never about art or theater or science.)

Well, today,  it struck me as really amusing that I would sing that song at such a young age, even though I had no clue what any of the words meant. Not at all. I was just singing the sounds of the words, you know? I liked how the words sounded. But I must have sounded just hysterically funny to any adults who might have overheard me. I mean, I was 8, with long brown hair, my little stretchy hairband, big brown eyes. Little saddle shoes, knee socks. The works. And I had one of those high soprano voices and I would sing my heart out!

I eventually re-discovered that song in my teens and by then, I knew what all those words meant and I almost died when I realized what the song was about.

Anyway, I have no idea why I was remembering that today, but I was.  Clearly, I was destined from birth to fill up my entire life with dirty words.

Okay! I finished that poetry book I bought recently — the award-winning chapbook I mentioned, where the poet had written the best inscription ever. Anyway, it’s really good. It’s called Acadiana, by Nancy Reddy.  

It is inspired by folklore and hurricanes in Louisiana, so it’s intense. And it has some incredible imagery involving the folklore of girls  that I just loved, even though a lot of it was sort of starkly merciless and maybe emotionally brutal? Not sure if that’s the right word. But I really liked it.

(Actually, the imagery often reminded me of Nick Cave’s novel, And the Ass Saw the Angel, except that Acadiana is only about 29 pages.)

All righty! So that’s Day 7 for me in quarantine.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings, right? Have a good night, gang, wherever you are in the world!! Sleep tight. I love you guys.

“Sodomy”

Sodomy, Fellatio, Cunnilingus, Pederasty
Father, why do these words sound so nasty?
Masturbation can be fun
Join the holy orgy Kama Sutra
Everyone!

© – 1968 Galt McDermot, Gerome Ragni, James Rado