MOVIES

We had some company for several days and were able to go to the movies. We saw the latest Star Wars, Jumanji, and Darkest Hour.

They were all entertaining and it's hard to choose a favorite. Star Wars had a rousing plot that kept us on our toes. Seeing Carrie Fisher's last performance was sad but familiar. Continuing to learn the background of new leading characters kept us interested.

Darkest Hour took us into Churchill's life at the most important time of his life. I was delighted to see his cat show up as well as one of the King's corgis. And while Dunkirk played a tiny scene in the entire movie, it was better than any scene in the movie Dunkirk that came out last year. The camera caught the spirit of all the small boats that made the trips across the channel whereas Dunkirk showed only a few here and there so that the scope of the rescue operation was lost.

And Jumanji.

Jumanji made me laugh out loud.

Not only my guy and I howled; our guests laughed and so did about ten other couples in the theater. In fact, just as I began to giggle with the first joke, I heard explosive cackling from the rows behind us. I guess some people are quicker to catch on than me.

The movie kept us on the edge of our seats, but it wasn't as scary as the first Jumanji that we saw years. But it was definitely funnier.

Any of these are good movies to see, but I must admit to thinking about Jumanji more than the others. And smiling as I remember the look on some of the characters' faces when they realize they are different people in the game. The nerd becomes the hero, the smart girl turns into a athletic heroine, the dumb football star turns into a professor, and the campus queen turns into...

But I won't give it away.

Star Wars' fans will obviously go see (if they haven't already seen) the latest installment but the history-minded will be better off choosing Darkest Hour. And if you like ridiculous comedy, go to Jumanji.

DREAMS

Yesterday about six a.m., my girl cat meowed. One of those Get-up-and-feed-me-before-I-starve-to-death! yowls that make you think someone is murdering her. Just one yowl but enough to wake me in the middle of a dream.

I danced in the back of the chorus line while Barbra Streisand sang "Hello Dolly" in the front. I never saw her--backs of period costumes and hats of the dancers around me blocked my view--but I heard her very plainly. Seems I was actually a part of the dream. Don't know why I dreamed about her. She's okay, but I was never a big fan.

Usually, I don't participate in my dreams. They normally work like movies or books. Movies flow as if on screen. For books, I see the pages.

My most unusual dream was a television show. With commercials. It was a period (Hmmm. Could I be onto something here? Maybe I should be concentrating on writing more historicals?) drama. The only scenes I remember were men in black suits and string ties carrying a coffin up--or down--a narrow staircase; and women in Victorian mourning dresses sitting around a table, wiping their eyes.

The commercial came in the middle, naturally. A merry little jingle accompanied an actress flinging open the trunk of her car to reveal a beautifully wrapped large box with one of those big, puffy bows. I think it was advertising some department store I'd never heard of. Then back to the drama.

Strangely enough, I could sing the commercial's ditty the next day. I have no idea where that came from. Neither tune nor lyrics were familiar.

Anyway, this morning my cat didn't yowl till seven o'clock. Guess I was past the dream stage because I just woke up annoyed.

Not that she cares.

NO TV

We've been away, working at the house in north Georgia. Got a lot packed up, brought a lot back with us, rented a storage unit today, will go back for more before closing in 2-3 weeks. Stuff we don't want the movers to move like an antique Singer sewing machine.

The thing is, when we're up there, we have no telephone land line and the cell phones don't work without the AT&T microcell which doesn't work without broadband. And we have no internet or cable so... I can check email and get to emergency stuff on my phone at good old Micky D's, but at night, we're reduced to watching old movies. Or Red Box movies, actually. We watched Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy; I liked the book but the movie was slo-o-w. Then we watched the new Mission Impossible; it was too fast (and impossible describes most of the action perfectly), and gave me a headache. Then we watched, on recommendation, The Descendants. Another slow movie that was rather depressing. Nice music though. Finally we watched one we found while packing: The Cutting Edge. Love that movie!

Not looking forward to going back up but back up we must go. Sigh. A few days to work in things here (Two opened bottles of olive oil added to the one here???? Four pairs of house shoes added to the two here????) and then we'll bring more stuff back. To fit in somewhere, somehow.

When we decided to move, we put stuff in storage in Hartwell, where we'd thought to come back after a few years on the island. Then we decided not (the lovely lake lot had grown large houses with four car garages all around it; it'd be like living in a subdivision except with a lake in the front yard). So we moved the stored stuff down here. Then we had to go back to north Georgia and the stored stuff went into the basement. Now it's coming back down here.

I am really keeping my fingers crossed the house closes! I'm tired of carting stuff up and down the road.