It took me until December 28 to get the tree decorated and now Roy is eager for it to come down. Not so fast, please...
Actually, I'll probably start this evening.
I love our Christmas tree, but I don't like it to hang about too long.
If it does it ceases to be "special" and turns into just another dust-trap.
All I lack is the bells on the front door and two manger scenes. They go back in their boxes after Epiphany, and that's it--back to "bleak midwinter."
Our tree went up on the 26th and is coming down today. (I have just brought the boxes in from the garage to pack away the decorations.)
I'm back in work tomorrow and there'll be no time in the week because I'm back to teaching evening classes. And though the 6th is Friday, after a week at work I will not want to be taking a tree down on Friday evening.
It seems wrong to the point of being depressing to have the tree still twinkling away once the holiday is over.
And I've always wondered how detectives get away with private accusatory conversations with murderers--shouldn't they wait to have some witnesses?
BTW, I saw Stephen Spielberg's Munich yesterday--2 hours and 44 minutes within an assassin's mind. Spielberg is much too good--his murder scenes were dreadful.
I left the theater agitated and angry--and I took it out on the director, who was much too good at showing death throes--
And S has a habit of "telling, not showing" that irritates me--for example, when the protagonist begins to lose it, the music goes haywire, as if the record were off-center on the player.
I used to be prepared to defend Spielberg heartily against all comers, but recently I've begun to have my doubts.
I hated Minority Report and thought Catch Me If You Can was terribly syrupy. Those two films disappointed me so much that I haven't bothered with anything he's done since.
Wouldn't it be nice if he made a "little" film for a change.
"Syrupy"--that's the word.
"Maudlin" is another.
I found it an interesting juxtaposition that Mel Gibson's upcoming movie Apocalypse (shudder) was previewed before Munich--he and Spielberg seem to both feel compelled to share their Lessons with humanity; Gibson's are particularly loathsome to me. I wonder what Mel's sadistic God will offer us in his Apocalypse?
I always thought Mel was a bit of a thug and now that he's become God's thug I dislike him heartily. Yes, he and Spielberg both want to teach us stuff (for our own good). Spielberg's lessons are generally more to my taste that Mel's but I still feel that I'm being got at.
Ah, but Poirot is the one character for whom that behavior would be absolutely correct; he is, of course, supremely confident in his abilities, and anything that appears to contradict that is an error on someone else's part, naturally. :)
You make him sound just like Tony Blair :)
*laugh* The thing is that, usually, Poirot really WAS right. ;)
Dear Poirot. I have a very soft spot for him. Especially as played by David Suchet.
As I understand it, Suchet read everything Christie wrote about Poirot in order to prepare for the part, and, as far as I'm concerned, it shows; he is Poirot. :)
He's so much better that the competition. I like Peter Ustinov, in general terms, but he's too big and bluff to be Poirot.
*nod* Ustinov is a lovely fellow, but not even remotely Poirot.
I quite agree. David Suchet is wonderful as Poirot, so much more like the *real* Poirot than who's-his-face in Murder on the Orient Express. When I read him, now, it's David Suchet-as-Poirot that I see in my mind's eye -including that BEAUTIFUL smile.
That was Albert Finney in Murder on the Orient Express and -yes- it was all wrong- a laboured, unnatural performance.
I was reading that Suchet goes into character as soon as he puts on the moustache and stays in character, whether he's filming or not, until it's peeled off again.
I aim to keep my tree up until Twelfth Night: a twelve day Christmas feels about right to me, I enjoy celebrating when you've finished the main fuss, and it's all optional.
But what I meant to ask was, re ii): do you deliberately have three calendars, or did they just happen? I have years when everyone gives me calendars (like last year, when I bought one myself and was given two), and years when no-one does (like this year: I shall be looking in the sales, maybe tomorrow).
They just happened.
We were in Barcelona and we wanted a Picasso calendar but there were two to choose from and we liked them so much we ended up buying both.
And then, by an odd coincidence, my sister-in-law was in Barcelona later in the year and she brought us back the Dali calendar.