The Prisoner of Zenda

Lisa from Boondock Ramblings is doing the "Winter of Fairbanks Jr." on her blog and I said I'd join her if I'd get the chance to watch the movies.
For today she chose "The Prisoner of Zenda". I had heard of the movie so often, but can't remember ever having watched any of the different versions. That doesn't mean much, though, because I'm sure I don't remember every movie from my childhood and this kind of movie would have been very much our TV food from that time.

Public domain via Wikipedia

Lookalikes are a popular trope in books and movies. That can be a "doppelgänger" (also spelled "doppelganger") from the spirit world - from the German "Doppelgänger" which translates as "double goer" - or just someone who looks very similar to another person. From my experience, it is often used in the first way in English, but in German it's more often just a lookalike.
Being very versatile, the doppelgänger trope is used in horror, thrillers, comedies, adventure, and more.

Anthony Hope's "The Prisoner of Zenda" is an adventure novel from 1894 and has inspired more than one adventure film, but also parodies.
This post is about the 1937 version which is regarded to be the best one and also the one with Douglas Fairbanks jr. in it. Actually, he wanted to play the lead, but lost the double role to Ronald Colman, instead he was offered the part of a villain which didn't get as much screen time, but looks as if it had been more fun to play.

So - what's the movie about? That's a bit confusing.

Englishman Rudolf Rassendyll is in the small kingdom of Ruritania (according to the book, in the movie they just show on a map that is somewhere between Vienna and Bucharest) on a fishing trip. Upon entering the country, he's already noticing strange reactions from the people around him, but only when he happens to encounter the soon-to-be king Rudolph in the woods, accompanied by his two of his men, Colonel Sapt and Fritz von Tarlenheim, he understands as he's the spitting image of the king, except for his beard. They discover that they are very distant cousins and Rudolph invites Rassendyll for a night of drinking.

Unfortunately Rudolph's half-brother Michael, who is after the throne, has drugged him to make sure he won't be in time for the coronation, and Sapt persuades Rassendyll to take his place to prevent Michael from becoming King.
Sapt and Fritz take the sleeping Rudolph to a hiding place and instruct Rassendyll for the coronation.
When they come back for Rudolph afterwards, however, they find he has been abducted by Michael's henchman Rupert of Hentzau (played by Fairbanks jr.) who seeks every opportunity to use the situation for his own gain. That means Rassendyll will have to keep on impersonating Rudolph.

Things have become even more complicated by his meeting Princess Flavia at the coronation who is supposed to marry Rudolph. She had never taken a liking to him before, but now she falls in love with Rassendyll - believing it is the King who has changed since she met him last years ago - and he with her.

Michael's mistress Antoinette, who knows that he would have to marry Flavia if he were to take the throne which obviously doesn't make her happy, decides to help the King in exchange for Michael's life and makes a plan to let his men into the castle of Zenda where Rudolph has been taken by now.
However, Michael surprises Rupert trying to seduce Antoinette, they start fighting and Rupert stabs him. Antoinette breaks down over Michael's body and her words alert Rupert about Rassendyll being in the castle.
Rupert confronts him and offers to kill Rudolph, Sapt, and Fritz, so only he and Rassendyll will hold the secret and can rule together, but Rassendyll declines. They end up in a sword fight as is expected from a swashbuckler film, but Rassendyll manages to lower the drawbridge for the King's men which forces Rupert to escape with a daring jump into the moat.

Source: Kevin's Movie Corner

Is there a happy ending? No, sorry. The King takes his rightful place back and Rassendyll returns to England - without Flavia who decides to stay behind with a broken heart, but her eyes on her duty to the country.

I know that many people love this movie, I have read rave reviews with full marks for performance, story, and action.
Now I don't see it on my list of regulars. It was fun, I liked it, but I didn't love it.
Maybe Ronald Colman was a bit too old for my idea of the swashbuckler. Although there is nothing to complain about his performance of both characters, I could see him more as the King than Rassendyll.
However, I might just have been captured by the two younger men, Rupert and Fritz (Fairbanks jr. and Niven), and am therefore a bit unfair to him.
What is it about a lock of hair hanging over the forehead of a good-looking young villain (Rupert) or an impish little smile on the lips (Fritz)? I felt like 13 and pining all over again for a second, and without those two, I might actually have felt a bit bored as there was a lot more talking than action. Maybe I would have liked the movie better if it had been a little shorter and, hm, snappier?

You know, I might just have to watch it again after all sometime, just to see if I will still be feeling the same way about it then.
And forgive me if this post seems a bit rushed, it had been a spontaneous decision to do this one.

Goodbye, Sharon McCone

How do you feel about book series? Are you a loyal fan of a particular series? Have you abandoned series, if so, why? How do you feel about reading the last book in a series?
All of these questions came to me when the last Sharon McCone book by Marcia Muller turned up in my mail.

Who is Sharon McCone and how did she get into my life? To be honest, I don't remember anymore, she has been around for so long. Maybe San Francisco was the start?
You see, when I first met Sharon, probably sometime in the early 90s, she was a private detective in San Francisco. In fact, she is credited with being the first independent female private detective paving the way for so many others, even if I didn't know it then.
I just liked Sharon and I liked that I could follow her around in my mind's eye having visited San Francisco myself not that long before. She was tough, she was smart, she could stand up for herself. She had a social conscience, in fact she had studied sociology and worked her way through college in department store security, then moved on to become the staff investigator at All Souls, a legal co-op a friend of her founded in San Francisco.

People change, however, even in books sometimes. Sharon left All Souls for becoming too business-like, opened her own agency which grew and grew. She fell in and out of love, more and more characters entered the scene, friends and family members with a vast share of problems, the plots got more complicated, the books got thicker, Sharon met Hy, the mysterious pilot, learned how to fly (just like Muller herself), had a ranch in the middle of nowhere (you have to fly that plane somewhere), found out she was adopted and Native American, Hy and his partners with the high profile security agency moved into a big building, along with Sharon's detective agency ... have you forgotten to breathe yet?
'Cos that's a bit what it felt like to me. And Sharon, it seemed, was a bit overwhelmed as well.
I blame Hy. I was never a fan of Hy, even if was the love of Sharon's life. Everything about him was too professional, too mysterious, too rugged, too good, too much, too large.

I have abandoned book series for one or the other reason, but can also be loyal to a fault.
I stayed by Sharon's side although I often complained (mostly about Hy 😂). When they stopped translating the books into German, I got the English ones (although I hate mixing languages in a series), but have to admit that I sometimes rushed through them, for example skipping details about planes, how to fly them, and about winds.
The later books got thinner again (which I welcomed).
Some I liked better than others, but my re-reads were the older ones when Sharon still seemed to be Sharon to me and if I hadn't that history with her, I'm sure I would have given up before the end.

Now I have the last book lying there on my nightstand, waiting to be opened for the first time, and I have to admit that there is a bit of grief, but it's not overwhelming like in other cases, instead it's mixed with relief.
When I read my last Terry Pratchett book, I actually cried. Reading my last Kinsey Millhone book by Sue Grafton, I didn't cry, but was really sad.
I'm not saying farewell to Sharon as I'm sure I will not stop re-reading my favorites from time to time, but I'm saying goodbye.
Goodbye, Sharon, you have earned your retirement.

10 on the 10th - 2024, remember or forget

That is this month's prompt for the 10 on the 10th by Marsha in the Middle, and it's a difficult one for me.
I could just go the easy way and say I want to remember everything that was good and forget everything that was bad, but it doesn't really work that way, does it?
Another reason is that, the older I get, the blurrier the years seem to get. Was this last week, last month, last year? Whenever I watch "12 Angry Men" and they talk about alibis and not remembering a movie one of them has seen not long ago, I try to remember details of something not that far back and I fail regularly. I would make an absolutely terrible witness in court, and if I were the defendant, I would probably march straight to jail, innocent or not.
Ask me details from one of my vivid dreams, however, or my favorite song lyrics from the 80s, I'm your woman.
Lastly, my life is quite uneventful and quiet, others would probably even say it's boring.  

Let's see what I can still get together from last year, in completely random order.

1. Happy Anniversary to my kidney. In November, we celebrated incredible 21 years together, not something anyone had anticipated after a very rocky start. In the USA it would be allowed to drink legally now 😉 I'm immensely grateful and hope we'll be having a bit more time together.

2. Speaking of health, I would like to forget all the little and big problems some of which have become worse last year, such as my arthritic thumb joint I keep whining about. One spot stops hurting for a bit, but no worries, the next one will be with you in a moment. It can really get exhausting, also mentally, especially if it messes with my creative ventures which are usually my way to escape.
It also means I don't get out much because I tire easily, so don't expect any travel posts from me.

3. Starting a new craft. After two short and bad experiences way in the past, I started embroidering after all. I had been fascinated by pictures of goldwork for quite a while and couldn't resist getting a goldwork kit which is probably a bit of a weird choice for a first piece. I had it lying around forever, too afraid to start, and then two ladies from Instagram convinced me to finally give it a go. I was very proud of my little goldwork fox as I hadn't been too sure it would ever get finished.

4. Online classes and talks. For last year's crafty advent calendar, I had found a few perfect items, but I really struggled to get through the video tutorials which has nothing to do with the quality, I'm just notoriously bad at watching anything on the computer that is longer than five minutes. However, working from home seems to have taught me to get better at it if I'm really, really interested in something.
I very spontaneously bought a self-paced embroidery online course from the Royal School of Needlework. Again, it took me a bit to muster the courage to get started, but then I really enjoyed it, and now I have another course waiting for me to muster the courage to get that one started (there's a lot of counting involved and we all know I even have problems to count to three sometimes 😉). The courses include kits, but unfortunately the RSN stopped shipping to the EU right before the goldwork course I wanted to do so badly finally became available again. I don't know if they are going to pick up shipping again eventually, if so, I will definitely do more.
I also found that there are actually online talks I enjoy.

5. World politics and world matters. I'm not going to go into detail, but there are several things I would quite like to forget, but unfortunately they are our future.

6. Life has thrown me a surprising curveball this year. The outcome of this particular one is not clear yet, it might be a good one, it might be a bad one, but as a natural born pessimist I won't be able not to overthink it until I actually know.

7. Blogging. I hadn't blogged a lot in the last few years, half of my posts were made up for the advent calendars.
A lot of it has to do with the limits I set for myself when I started blogging. My family doesn't want to be put out there which I understand only too well as I don't want to put too much of myself out there. I have been extremely camera-shy since I was a teenager and it hasn't become better with age. Not that many pictures exist of me at all, I hardly have any selfies, and those that I have usually have a cat in there as well, ideally hiding part of me.
This blog is mainly a crafty blog, but I don't do tutorials or instructions. When I craft, I craft and don't write down individual steps or take photos which often means I don't even remember myself how I did something (one reason why I'm not a fan of making earrings).
There has been a time when you wouldn't have found me without fiddling with wire or beads. That's not happening anymore. First Zibbet, where I had my shop, disappeared off the web, then came the pandemic and I couldn't ship stuff overseas anymore for months, then the postal service changed rules about the annual minimum shipping, so now I have to pay the private rates, that (once again) led to the question how much sense it even made to still make and try to sell jewelry. I often say that I have always been a very small fry, but how small do you have to become to finally give up? Anyhow, this and my thumb were not very good for my motivation this year. No crafting, no blogging.
I didn't want to give that up completely, though. Surely there was a way to find something to write about? That reminded me of my nostalgia posts and how I always enjoyed doing the research for them. Also I (very) slowly started connecting with other bloggers and joined in one or the other activity with them like "Comfy Cozy Cinema" and "Comfy Cozy Christmas", well, and the "10 on the 10th". No idea where and how this will be going, but I'm trying to get back on track and maybe surprise myself.

8. New shop. That may sound like something good to remember, but yeah, actually not. I thought I'd give a German platform a try, probably mostly to convince myself to keep going, but after giving it some time, I decided it was not worth for me putting any more money in.

9. The year of dying appliances.
My TV decided it would get rid of the V part. Sound yes, picture no. Thankfully I still had a smaller TV that could jump in because I haven't found a replacement yet. TV is important for me because I like to have background noise when crafting. Audiobooks are not my thing and music doesn't work as well as TV shows because it relaxes me right into sleep which is a tad counterproductive.
My furnace decided it's time for us to say goodbye. It's still working which is a nice move on its part, but only until there will be a new one if I don't wait too long. And it insists on making noises until then to make sure I really won't be waiting too long.
I think both of them have been talking to my fridge, too. It's still in the decision-making process and wants to call its union representative about retirement options.
I told the cats to look for jobs, but they refused and told me that I shouldn't dare cut snack rations or else ...

10. Cats. Of course. Can't do without cats.
Der Dekan hasn't changed much, he's still Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde which can be highly entertaining, highly annoying or just downright adorable.
Gundel, on the other hand, has changed a bit over the last year. As she came to me as a stray, I don't know her age, if my vet's estimate is right, she would be around 11 now. After we lost Ponder, shortly before the pandemic started, she became a bit lazy. We were alone, I waited on her paw and foot, and she enjoyed snuggling up and sleeping, watching me work from home - something that was new to her, having the human around all day - and very much becoming the Queen of the house.
After a while, the Queen didn't want to share my pillow anymore, but granted audience graciously when she felt like it, snuggling up against my leg. She also stopped fetching balls, probably that wasn't dignified enough for her.
That was before der Dekan moved in, but with him around she appreciated her own pillow even more and often retreated quickly when he jumped at her. In such a retreat from the top of the wardrobe she hurt her first knee and when that had got better, the lady went and hurt the other knee (both on her hind legs). That one was worse, she limped badly and practically left her pillow only to go the box. Yes, I spoilt her even rottener than before (I know that isn't a word). It took months for it to get really good again although now I'm not so sure anymore if she faked part of it because she enjoyed being pampered.
Just now I can hear her kick a ball around. I remember how surprised I was to hear such a sound at night some time this year. My girl had started playing again! Not with me that much, she prefers play sessions on her own at night. Actually she got more active again in general - the Christmas tree could tell one or the other story about that - and obviously der Dekan taught her not to be quite such a lady anymore because she doesn't just try to stare me awake for breakfast now, instead she pulls on my hair and she's not holding back! She even started talking more again.
The highlight, however, was on Valentine's Day. Gundel is not a lap cat, but on that day, completely out of the blue, she sat on my chest and then lay down on me and stayed for two hours. There are special moments with my animals which I really treasure, and this is one of them. She had never done that in almost seven years.
And guess what, when I had finished this post and shut the laptop, she came up and sat on my chest for 15 minutes to be petted. Think she knew what I had been writing about?

Wow, I really made it to ten.
Sorry that the post is so long, I hadn't thought it would be. Thank you if you made it all the way through!

The ravioli fight

I'm not much of a cook, and today, after my first workday in the new year was over, I definitely had neither the patience nor the motivation to cook. Usually that means a cheese sandwich, I even had fresh potato walnut bread delivered with the groceries, but I wanted something warm, so I went for one of my "emergency foods", in this case a can of vegan ravioli. I rarely buy them and hadn't had them for a while, also they were on sale, I couldn't resist.

Nothing could go wrong, could it? Open the can, heat the ravioli, a piece of bread for the sauce, full belly, done. Maybe a nice nap with kitty snuggling afterwards, taking down some Christmas decorations, hanging up laundry, then a nice evening with a bit of TV and getting ready for the next day.
OR you could prove to be too stupid to open the can and delay that whole plan.
I'm not kidding. I stood there like an idiot, turning and turning the handle of my can opener. The can went round and round and round and round, but nothing got cut and the lid didn't come off.
Now I didn't buy that can opener, it was my ex, and I very much blame him for leaving me with it, so I wouldn't have to get a new one, but curse every time I use it.
Ok, I don't really blame him, I blame myself for hardly ever using it and therefore never bothering to buy a replacement.
(Spoiler: Eventually the miracle happened and the can got so tired of my efforts that it decided to give up.)

That took me back another fight with a ravioli can more than 40 years ago. My boyfriend at the time had a room above a restaurant. One day he had to go work  - "only for a bit" - and I stayed behind with a book. Unfortunately, he took the key with him by accident, and I didn't feel good about leaving with the room being unlocked (I mean, what if someone would have stolen his valuable cassette tapes? No, honestly, I have absolutely no idea why I felt thieves were just waiting to raid this particular room, my only excuse is that I was still quite young, but already an accomplished overthinker).
Then I got hungry because "only for a bit" turned into hours. No problem, I had a can of ravioli and a hot plate. And a tiny US Army P-38 can opener which I had never seen before in my life.

Public domain via Wikipedia

The next hour or so (including a lot of breaks to curse the can - in English, I curse a lot better in English - and the opener, my boyfriend and the key), I tried to get that *insert curse word here* can opened. I'm going to spare you all the methods I used although I knew they wouldn't work. One included a screwdriver without a hammer.
That I didn't cut a finger off with the P-38 was simply a miracle. I can be a terrible klutz sometimes and this thing just screamed Klutzkiller.
Well, other than this time I didn't succeed back then and got so hangry that someone got a big earful when he came back, I can tell you that. Him laughing about my struggle with the P-38 didn't help. Him inviting me for dinner at the restaurant downstairs helped a little. I think the kitchen had run out of food when I was done 😉

Another memory from that time is an old grater that I still own and use today. It's nothing special and there is a small melted spot from the hot plate, but it works and that's all that counts.
Some time ago, my sister and I talked about vintage kitchen utensils and she took a picture for me of her small "collection" from the old days, including a can opener like the one my grandmother also had (which I wasn't very good with, either) and my grandmother's own masher with a very vintage handle pattern. Talk about flashbacks! Who knows, maybe I'm going to tell you the story sometime of how my grandmother and I didn't talk anymore for two weeks when I was a kid - because of green beans! 😂

Do you still have old kitchen utensils that you bought yourself or inherited?

P.S. The nap didn't happen, by the way. Well, not for me, but of course the cats. They really need to get a job or at least start cleaning around here.

The cat

Happy New Year!
This is not a bad day for showing something fresh off the hoop.

The other day I was hanging out on my bed like so often - it's big and the perfect space for the cats and me, tools and supply boxes, books and remote controls.
Der Dekan is one clingy cat, so I usually have some kind of blanket on my legs, thin or thick, summer or winter, so the master can choose to sleep on my legs or on my feet or under the blanket snuggled up against my legs (which can be rather nice if it's cold because he's a veritable little hot-water bottle, just filled with kibbles instead of water, if it's too hot, he luckily stays next to me instead).
In this case, he was on the blanket sleeping like only he can, meaning his weight mysteriously tripled from one second to the next, so I was completely paralyzed. Yes, I know he's a spoilt brat, but I don't make the rules, I just work here.
I have never been a girl scout, but my motto for such situations is "Be prepared" which means that my embroidery box was next to me. I hadn't planned anything in particular, but seeing his cute little face, I grabbed my smallest embroidery hoop, one of my water-soluble pens, and whipped up a quick sketch, as well as I could, I'm not an artist.

That didn't mean I planned to make my kitty look like der Dekan, I'm definitely not there yet with my embroidery skills and don't know if I ever will be, but that doesn't really matter as I just enjoy the process.
Also I'm completely overwhelmed by all the colors cats have even if they are "just" black or tabby cats. Sometimes I find myself staring at my cats in wonder trying to determine which colors I'm seeing at the moment, depending on the light. Der Dekan mostly doesn't mind me poking each color I can see in his fur, going "boop, boop, boop" (if you think that is silly, be glad you don't know more).
I still don't know what base color he is exactly. Sometimes he looks brown, sometimes it's more of a grey.

One of the things I like to do when I start on something without a clear plan is to pick a bunch of colors from what I have around at that moment.
That doesn't mean my whole stash, but what I find in my current project box which is just a nice way to speak of the box I throw beads into because I'm too lazy to put them back right away. To justify that, I take it as a challenge to create with what I have.
Now my embroidery box is organized, but only because I don't have enough stash yet to start a second box, and that means I have a limited amount of colors, more brown than grey which settled the color of my cat.

Whenever der Dekan was sleeping on me again, I took a good look at him for inspiration and went to work on the piece on and off over a week.
As usual I see the flaws and shortcuts very clearly, but this is a journey of which I don't know where it's going to take me to, and at the moment I still embrace my flaws and allow myself shortcuts consciously. My experience is that if I want too much too quickly and fail with that, it can lead to WIPs (works in process) turning into forever UFOs (unfinished objects) - that's my definition - and I didn't want this one to become one of those.
Der Dekan, however, wants you to know that he has a much cuter nose, and I have to agree on that.

What really annoyed me that one spot of the yellow pen stubbornly refused to come out. The last time I used it, I had covered it completely and there was no need to wash it out, but not this time.
The only idea I could come up with was to add a bit of sparkle to the background which I had wanted to do anyway, only not in that particular spot. Don't tell anyone ;-)

I had ordered a few round frames, wooden ones - I used one for my "Guardian of the Woods" - and vintage brass ones. They have a little hole and hook at the bottom which confused me at first, but of course they are meant to be hung up in a row, with family pictures for example. That took me back in time 45 years, to my violin teacher's living room. I can't remember every detail of it, but I remember it feeling cozy and comfortable - even if I had never practiced enough - and a bit old-fashioned and plushy, with elegant wallpaper and miniature portraits. I always wondered if they were ancestors of hers, but never dared to ask.

I don't know if I will make something eventually that will work with the tabby for such a row of portraits.
For now I will have to think of something to make that hole a bit less noticeable. One idea is to paint the linen golden in that spot or glue on a bead or to put a hook in - the original one or a smaller one - and hang a charm on it, not that I would know at the moment what kind of charm could work. What do you think?

Merry Christmas!

As you probably know, we start celebrating Christmas on Christmas Eve here in Germany.

So I'm going to take off for a bit, but we - Gundel, der Dekan, and I - want to wish you a very Merry and Peaceful Christmas.

A Christmas Story

"You'll shoot out one of your eyes."
You either know that quote, start laughing and come right back with a quote of your own, maybe the triple dog dare or the yellow eyes of Scut Farkus, or you don't know it which means you have never seen "A Christmas Story".

Ralphie and his desperate Christmas wish for "an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle" have been part of my life for years and years, first brought to me by German TV, then after they stopped showing the movie for reasons unknown, on English DVD.
The season would not be the same without this movie, without Ralphie in his bunny suit, a gift from Aunt Clara who suffers from the delusion that he is a perpetually four year old girl, without The Old Man obsessing over his prize for a puzzle competition, a lamp in the shape of a lady's leg, and accusing his wife of destroying it on purpose, without Ralphie trying to drop (not always so) subtle hints about the Red Ryder everywhere, and of course without the neighbors' dogs stealing the turkey.
Oh, and if you want to know if Ralphie gets his BB gun, you should watch the movie.

Did you know that the stories in the movie are part of a collection called "In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash" by Jean Shepherd?

1st edition 1966, picture fair use
via Wikipedia

Jean Shepherd was an American humorist who performed on radio. Eventually he was convinced to write his radio stories down, fictional stories mixed with facts from his own childhood.
He was a writer for the movie, by the way, and narrated it himself brilliantly (after all he was a radio performer).
So the book would be good as well, right? Nyah (this is supposed to be a sound of not being sure) .... I got the book, struggled with it on too many of my commute rides, barely made it through and never touched it again.
Don't get me wrong, there were parts when I snickered, giggled or laughed, but there were many, many words, many, many descriptions, and the frame - a grown-up Ralphie returning home and telling of his memories in his old friend Flick's bar - didn't really work for me, either.
As always, not everyone has the same opinion from the reviews I read, but some feel exactly the way I do.
I guess I'll just stick to the movie, thank you very much.

P.S. I hadn't been aware of the sequels and will skip the summer one, but I'm waiting for the second sequel at the moment, so I may add a short review for that to this post once it's here.
And here we go now - A Christmas Story Christmas from 2022.
It's 1973. Ralphie has grown up and has a family of his own now. He's taken a time out from work to write a Science Fiction novel, but his epic work of 2,000 pages is rejected by every publisher.
Shortly before Christmas, his mother calls to tell him that his father has died, so the family heads home to spend Christmas with her.
Thinking of his father, Ralph wants to make this the best Christmas ever, but things don't quite work out that way (as expected ;-)).

Actually, I was a bit surprised - wary about sequels as I am - that I really enjoyed the movie.
Of course it's a different mother (Melinda Dillon was already 82 at the time and had stopped acting years ago), but there are a few familiar characters from the first movie which added a lot to the fun, I think. Will it become cult like the first one? I doubt it because the parents were such an important part, but I was not disappointed.