Easter Monday

Thought I would try to go to work but couldn’t.  Not quite there.

It’s raining, thank God, a good soaking rain, and I heard thunder.  Felt better enough to put on a pot of chicken soup, with rosemary, bacon, potatoes, carrots celery, stock and white wine.  Simmering now.

I must start to cry more–after my last post, felt the kindness of someone stroking my cheek and I burst into tears for everything mentioned and after everything felt much better as it usually does.  Watched Ben-Hur, still remains my favorite movie or in the upper five, and it never seems like Easter if I don’t watch it.  It seems I watched enough Easter stories and heard enough Roman fanfares to echo in my mind for days.  Last night, one of my favorites, “The Robe,” felt I wasn’t watching it alone and that made me so glad if I was right.  I’m glad it’s finally raining, wow, now it’s a downpour just like summer, and again, I’m glad.

Getting tired, more later or tomorrow.

Easter PS

Didn’t quite realize how disappointed I am, but I just turned on the Easter Service broadcast of Mass from the Cathedral on WLAE at 11 AM, and had to turn it off because truth to tell, it nearly broke my heart to miss all the services at St. Catherine’s, and not be able to sing in any of them.  So, the Revs Stanley and Jeremiah’s message today will be it.  I’m sorry.

Happy Easter

A strange Easter, for me, but unlike that Easter three years ago, when I got no better until I went into pneumonia, it isn’t as bad.  Realize back then I had been getting sick for days but kept pushing on and working when I shouldn’t have.  Still, I am sick with this and may have to stay home even tomorrow but not as bad as three years ago.

Through all of this, I have been dying for ice cream, especially chocolate to the point of obsession.  I don’t often crave chocolate, maybe it’s the Easter candy thing, but dragged myself out this morning because I had to get my taxes in the mail, with an envelope addressed to the IRS, i.e., The Internal Rat Shysters and stopped at Walgreen’s for more meds then to Rouses for ice cream:  The New Orleans Ice Cream Company’s Mississippi Debris (dark, dark chocolate with swirls of brownies, malted milk balls, chocolate cherries, sprinkles, etc.; Chocolate Bread pudding; and Breyer’s Mint Chocolate along with a can of Reddi Whip.  The first two are just pints; the second a bit bigger.

Not cooking a lot today, but made oven fried lean pork chops; I had frozen some really delicious red cabbage I had cooked with low sodium bacon, apple and onion, and have a twice baked potato; that is all.

Remembering waking up Easter mornings to see the huge Easter basket on my dresser that the Easter bunny brought me in the night:  For me, always tied with a huge blue bow, a solid chocolate bunny, and plenty of Goldbrick eggs, Russell Stover’s Easter eggs, and tiny foil covered chocolate eggs.  Thanks, Mom.  TCM had the really clever touch of showing rabbit-themed movies last night, like Harvey, and The Night of the Lepus.  I taped the latter.

I have been taping, “The White Queen” on STARZ and soon had all ten episodes which I binged watched starting Friday after watching, “Sign,” and then finished yesterday morning.  I enjoyed it very much.  The White Queen, Elizabeth, was played by Rebecca Ferguson, as a blonde, and I kept trying to place her until I realized she had played the British agent in, “Impossible Nation:  Rogue Nation.”  I loved that defensive move her character made twice, when she is in engaged with bad dudes and she somehow climbs up their bodies and renders them useless.  I was thinking that I might have been able to do such a thing back in the days when I was ballet-limber, or 10K limber and it would have been a hoot, but I don’t think I would try this today!

Lost some weight since being sick; my shorts when I went out this morning were sliding off of me; believe me, that’s a good thing!

As frequently happens when you are working and engrossed, we seem to go our separate ways spiritually, always was, as far back as 1991; all except for 2011–that was far different.  It is now, but it’s all okay.

Yesterday I watched a tape of, “The Tarnished Angels,”  a mid 1950’s soap opera sort of with Rock Hudson as a New Orleans Times Picayune reporter, Robert Stack as a stunt pilot and Dorothy Malone as his wife.  Over Mardi Gras.  They had some real clips of Canal Street back then.  It promised to be a real clunker but somehow the story caught me and I enjyed it…Rock gets fired from the paper for wanting to cover the stunt pilot, actually he’s fallen in love with Malone, gets drunk after something happens and storms into the newsroom and launches into this soliloquy that was well performed and holds his editor and newsroom enthralled.  I said, “rehire that boy!”  And he was.  I always liked Robert Stacks, just wished he didn’t play each character like Eliot Ness.

Happy Easter!

Down For The Count

Okay, I’m flattened.  This is a monumental head cold with cough and I am sick.  Resigned that I won’t make any church service.  Dragged myself out to Majoria’s this morning for Coricidin, Chloraseptic, cough drops and Kleenex, and got Earl Grey tea from Canseco’s.  Trying to fast today is Good Friday, but don’t have much of an appetite anyway.  Awakened in the middle of the night out of a sound sleep, you know, one of those sick sound sleeps with scratchy throat.  Fixed a cup of Sleepytime for want of being out of everything else and tried to read in the living room but that good tea lulled me into a deep sleep with my head hanging over my book, turned out the lights and slept until after six.  There’s something in the air, every time I open a window for something I start coughing.  I feel like watching what I consider one of my comfort movies for the umpteenth time–Signs.  In that mood.  Finished reading, “The Yard,” and I liked it very much.  The writer in his acknowledgments thanked the British publishers who” believed in another Victorian crime novel written by some guy in the Midwest.”  Jolly good show, jolly good book with all the disgusting elements of gaslit London weaving a fine macabre motif–not to mention highly likeable coppas and detectives in the Murder Squad.

Looks like I will either have pizza or Chinese delivered for Easter Sunday dinner–that is, if I get my appetite back.  What a revolting development this has been!  But, in a funny way, its sustaining to suffer a bit on the day commemorating the day He suffered so much.

Now…

…to the recliner, Earl’s quilt and another bummer–used my last Earl Grey tea bag this morning and it’s the best thing for a sore throat.  No way in heck am I stirring out of here to buy any, simply can’t.  But I will miss its soothing parfum.

Party Scenes

Before I sign off let me mention there are certain party scenes in movies I never tire of seeing, especially the Art Students’ ball in an, “An American in Paris.”  That’s pretty wild in a fun, decent sort of way-keep remembering that chick jumping off the balcony to be caught by men several feet below.  So, been reading a bit about the notorious Chelsea Arts Club parties of the forties and fifties…fascinating.  Almost looks like an indoor Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras day, as though Louis Armstrong would be playing a belting trumpet or something.  Hope you did nothing my least favorite director, and you know who she is, would approve of.  Interest is getting more and more piqued the more I learn of this latest project.  Really am.

I’ve coughed so much my ribs hurt.  This had better not go into pneumonia again.  I was sick over Easter three years ago.  Knew I should not have missed the blessing of the throats on this past St. Blaise feast day!

Major League Bummer

Honestly, could this have happened at a worse time?  I’ve had a cough all this week, but nothing more.  We practiced for the Triduum Tuesday night for two hours, to start with the Holy Thursday service and all went well.  But yesterday everything made me cough, and it’s an allergy kind of cough, but I wasn’t sick, but this morning I awakened with non stop cough, sore throat and….LARYNGITIS.  I don’t have a voice.  I can’t go tonight to sing, and I pray I can go for Good Friday and the Easter vigil.  I was so looking forward to this, but I guess I’m not surprised–it’s been so warm, it’s spring in New Orleans and the allergens are flying thick and fast and we haven’t had an atmosphere-scrubbing rain in nearly two weeks.  I just can’t believe it happened at this time!  What a disaster.

Oh Ma Gawd!

You know, Sean Spicer really picked a bad day yesterday, Passover, to make that Hitler gaffe.  I know he meant that Hitler didn’t use chemical weapons against his own people like Assad, and because he had been gassed in WWI he didt want to use them in combat, but, Lordy, how could he forget about the concentration camps and all the Jews who were gassed to death.  It was a gaffe, on Passover, but you know, he didn’t deserve the condemnation he got in the MSM that blew it so out of proportion making it as big an outrage as Assad’s basing his own people.  Foolish remark, but let he who has never made one cast the first stone.

Palm Sunday

This has been a gloriously beautiful weekend.  Bright, cool, sunny, blue; my back porch smells like marigolds, lavender and the Tuscan Blue rosemary I bought.  Yesterday awakened on a mission and painted the stereo the heirloom red color; it came out beautifully.  The red with the bamboo speakers is perfect; it brightens up the corner where I had it next to the recliner and the only thing I’ve placed on it and will place on it is a slender reading lamp with a red lamp shade.  I’m glad I did it; once I put a varnish on it, it just may look a lot like Chinese lacquer.

Yesterday, we read the Passion at the Palm Sunday vigil, and I got new palms.  Jan from choir invited me over to her new house for wine Tuesday night after choir practice that I don’t dare miss because it will be Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Vigil practice all in one.  It should be fun, I like Jan and I suppose we laugh far too much together in Church before Mass starts.  Laid my head on someone’s shoulder as I walked up to receive Communion.

Got out of the house early this morning, a little after seven, drove along the River Road to the Super Walmart for candles, paper products, water and other staples. Bought a light weight vacuum cleaner in the hopes I can manage better than the other one which is also killing my back.  Stopped at Joe W’s for a few things, came home and just finished pan broiling two lean sirloins in red wine and portobello mushroomies; roasting some veggie kabobs now; portos, red and green peppers, yellow squash, red onion and zucchin

I’m not hungry yet, surprising for me, but I think I will have a chilled glass of Chardonnay with a twist of Italian bread just to tide me over.

Two more suggested episodes to watch  of , “Bonanza.”  “Between Heaven and Earth,” and extremely HIGHLY recommended, “Shanklin.”

Yesterday after painting the stereo, not wanting to hurry errands, I pulled up a movie I had taped, one of my favorites ever, “All This, and Heaven Too.”  It was like watching it for the first time.  I adore that movie, the story, and yes, I still cried at the end, and how I adore Charles Boyer.  And kudoes to Barbara O’Neal for playing his nutcase wife.  Every time she pelted him with her hysterical questions, “Why, Theo, why, Thei,” I kept responding in a Spanish accent, “Because you’re cr-r-r-r-razeeeeeee!

Speaking of Spanish:  or in this case, Cuban, my heroine!  Sylvia, whom I knew way back at Children’s Hospital, and who was a championship swimmer and who loves the pool as much as I is now a heroine in my eyes.  I saw her walking by the pool when I was returning from Mass and stopped the car to see how she’s been. Now, it’s been in the fifties here the last few days.  She told me that someone had put a newborn puppy in one of the pools and he almost drowned-she saw, immediately got into her swimsuit, dove into the cold water and saved him.  Now Sylvia has to be in her mid to late seventies.  But all that swimming has her in great shape!  The man who cleans the pool adopted the pooch and took him home.  God bless Sylvia!

 

Winning

Neil Gorsuch was confirmed for the Supreme Court today.  Of course the Republicans had to use the nuclear option in the face of the petty democratic denial of an excellent judge.  Harry Reid’s little dance came back to bite them on their jackasses.  Thanks be to God, a conservative judge on the Supreme Court.  And thank God Trump retaliated against Syria for those atrocities committed this week against innocents.  No red line, then backing off, like Obama.  In 2013, Obama drew his red line and then suddenly changed plans to attack for the dreadful gassing  then, wanting to wait for Congress that was out of session.  Since when?  Look what he and Clinton did in Libya without Congress.  And then blamed the Republicans for not backing him as a reason to not retaliate against Syria when he didn’t even need Congress to do so.

This attack against the Syria airbase was long overdue.  Wonder how the liberals are eyeing that Trump and Russia collusion thing now?  Kerry said there were no WMD’s in Syria, Rice, the Liar, praised the status of that nation, everything was cool and and wonderful.  And look at that Daughter of the South, Nikki Haley, sticking it to the UN on this atrocity, especially Bolivia, Syria and Russia.  Fire from the UK as well.  Someone said, Amazing courage today at the UN–what happened, and I replied, The Republicans were voted into office, that’s what happened.