American film legend Shirley Temple passed away today. Social media is buzzing about her movies, but I haven’t read anything about the TV series she did in the late 50’s/early 60’s called Shirley Temple’s Storybook.
That’s what I remember. The episode that still gives me nightmares was called “The Terrible Clockman.”
To this day, grandfather clocks make me uncomfortable.
Round two of my copy edits are done and returned to my editor. Whew! Also had a peak at the cover, although I don’t think that’s quite ready for a reveal.
Image credit: andrejad / 123RF Stock Photo
Also, one of my cousins’ posted this
on the family FB page, and I thought, what a great author promo idea! After all, it is all about me (see blog description, far upper right column)
If you followed my old “Comptonplations” blog, you may remember a thread about my recurring dream, in which I move back into an apartment that had a turquoise refrigerator. I actually lived in this apartment for about ten years. I miss the ancient Norge stove desperately, but the turquoise fridge? Uh, no.
Image credit: jgroup / 123RF Stock Photo
Well, last night I had the dream again. The circumstances in which I move back into this apartment are never the same. I don’t recall last night’s reason, but I do remember I was all set to move back in when I remembered I’m married and my husband has a lot of . . . stuff. So much . . . stuff, in fact, that I couldn’t move back into this apartment where I so desperately needed to go.
Someday I’m going to figure out what triggers this dream.
We watched Blue Jasmine last night. Cate Blanchett is in the running for Best Actress; there’s a Supporting Actress nod and Original Screenplay nomination, too.
TV Stevie called it, “Intense.”
I liked it a lot, but I didn’t think it was intense. I thought it was . . . sad.
And, in typical Woody Allen manner, nothing was resolved.
I received my second round of copyedits/revisions late last week, so that’s been my primary focus, although I have taken off time to watch two college basketball games (GO ORANGE!) and go on a date with my husband last night.
My niece is a chef at a pub, and that pub had an open mic night last night. My brother decided to play, and I haven’t heard him perform in years. So TV Stevie and I went. The food was great, the wine list needed an “H”, and nobody knows Dylan any more.
Back to copyedits tonight.