Sunday, June 09, 2013

Ghosts, Pretty Woman and hunger

 
Grey ghosts of dandelions mark time  among the  buttercups.

Pretty Woman  is on TV last night. I switch idly  to a film which I seem to have seen countless times. A fairy story and I am a sucker for fairy stories. It is fairy story about about people at the bottom of society surviving in a cruel world, about bullies who are put down and the bullied who are raised up., for which I am the biggest sucker of all time. A happy ending. The hooker and the asset stripper instead of the goose girl and the prince. It is a film about kindness and romantic love winning against greed and corruption. When a the end of the film  Richard Geer, terrified of heights, climbs up a fire escape, to prove his love for Julia Roberts, my current  emotional state tips me over the edge and, sentimental fool that I am, I weep without shame.

Dearest  is looking well and, if not bouncing, walking in the lovely grounds of Burrswood. In contrast with feeling sick a few days ago,  she declares today that she is hungry.

5 comments:

The Crow said...

Very glad to hear that your Dearest, for whom I have no doubt that you would scale a fire escape to prove your love, is doing better. That means you are, too.

Unknown said...

Thanks Crow. Yes much relief.

Tom said...

I don't know about scaling a fire escape. Bit drastic don't you think? How about ascending to her room in a dumb waiter with a full spread? That should do the trick, if trick were needed. If "Dearest" is on the ground floor, so much the better; love without risk!

Roderick Robinson said...

Hunger - a good symptom. Your attitude towards Pretty Woman is shared by many (including me): a slight sense of shame mingled with an appreciation of a job well done. But I'd like to register a protest against a passage which involves great cruelty: Richard Gere's treatment of the Lotus's gearbox.

Blogger now includes a list of "further reading" based on the stuff I've recently blogged: about six categories, the first four to do with gardening, and two more about poetry. I'm not sure I'm entitled.

Unknown said...

Tom I'm a bit old for that sort of thing now. Fortunately she is in fact on the ground floor.

Robbie Sometimes I suspect you of being a secret or repressed gardener. I wonder what Freud would have had to say about the condition.