Bewitched? Not really. I saw this episode yesterday.
Small lad excelled himself in the Mother's Day stakes this morning. He made cards, both of them utterly gorgeous (particularly the emoticons in silver pen), and handed over an oil burner - something I've needed for a while.
"Needed" being a relative term: the fates of our lives do not depend on the presence of an oil burner.
The day went sort of downhill from there. I had half-planned a trip to the Powerhouse Museum, but before I said anything about it we had an invitation to a family do. So tough luck on that. It's frustrating that there is never room for compromise with these things. And no is not taken well with this particular bunch. All of that grousing aside, "my" herb bread went over a treat.
So much so I looked it up on the iPad; cue watching youtube videos and getting embarrassed about looking up my stats for this blog. (I opened Safari, okay? Blogger was one of my open pages, okay?) Some people read this page. Good Lord. Drivel ready? Drivel launched.
This is the most stop-start entry ever. I have A Few Good Men playing in the background - late-eighties/early nineties musical grace notes to denote action, ick - and keep getting sidetracked. They're all so young! Jack Nicholson is so crazy! Guantanemo Bay - that embarrassment - before anyone had an idea what it was!
As much as this is compelling, I find myself out of love with easeful deat- Sorry, wrong opinion piece. Ahem, I find myself out of love with American courtroom drama. The constant harping on judicial process and the majesty of the legal system is starting to sound like a denial argument - methinks they doth protest too much. Extrajudicial process? Sure. Go overseas. Disregard any judicial process in the host country; it's probably inferior.
Okay, that's it for my incendiary remarks for today. Good timing. Jessup (Nicholson) has just entered the courtroom. Got to love the logic of the righteous - how utterly insane in the brain, murrain. Well, not really a murrain, unless I wanted to start a whimsy on the death of empathy; the death of understanding and the deeper ramifications. Nah. Take too long, and I'd contradict myself at least four hundred times.
Still worth a thought.
I have mixed feelings about the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie. There's no Will Turner or Elizabeth. Not that the only reason I was watching was Orlando Bloom...not at all preciousss.
Hairy Bikers are now cooking, and I have an urge to barbecue a pineapple on a spit, basting it with sugar and cinnamon as I go. Not what the Hairy Bikers are doing, they have some sesame seed thing (gak! blech! I hate sesame!). I had my pineapple thing at the Braza in Leichardt and think about it every now and then as the perfect dessert. Except for the heartburn from the pineapple, but you pay for what you get in life, right?
It is late and I am tired so it is time for me to read a book until my eyes slam shut and I leave the light on all night.
