There isn’t one because I’ve been too busy. Take comfort in the one piece I did manage to (un)cover:

...not at all bad for a 53-year-old granny, and nobody cares what she eats anyway:






Till next week.
Over here, a couple of guys gripe about ten most irritating things about modern cars. To save you time, I’ve listed them here, with my thoughts:
Now go and watch the video — especially the last couple of minutes — because those guys are funny where I’m just fucking enraged.
The last time I spent in the company of The Divine Sarah (and her hubby, shuddup you dirty-minded sods) was when she lived in her Colorado house. It was a lovely place, and I have to confess I did feel the occasional pang of envy.
Her new place? Apparently, not so lovely.
Of course, what hurt Sarah was that she moved the entirety of her old house’s contents into (I assume) a house of similar dimensions, and she and Dan brought everything with them. That, I could have told her, was always going to be a mistake, because a rule of thumb when moving is that you always repeat always de-clutter before the move.
When New Wife and I moved a couple years back, it helped that we were losing a bedroom (and its closets and its bathroom), so we had to get rid of an unconscionable number of things that we decided we were never going to need again. (Sarah talks of a couple SUVs of stuff headed to Goodwill: that’s beginner activity where I come from.)
What’s interesting is that of course I had to de-clutter bigly, back after Connie died and I had to empty our enormous Plano house (seven 30′ dumpsters… how’s that for clutter?) so I could remodel and sell the place.
And New Wife and I moved into an apartment, she bringing only a couple of suitcases-worth of her stuff from Seffrica, and I bringing only the remnants of the stuff I’d kept from the old house (less than a quarter of a single-car garage’s worth). And we still managed to accumulate possessions during our time in that apartment so that when we last moved, there were many trips made to Goodwill etc.
I might as well have been in the Army for all the moves I’ve made in my lifetime — the biggest one being from Seffrica to the Land Of The Free in The Great Wetback Episode of ’86 (three suitcases, from a huge townhouse in Johannesburg), and the next biggest was the aforementioned one from the Plano house.
Obviously, in terms of stuff let go, the Seffrican move caused the most: stereo set, a thousand or so albums, furniture, 400 bottles of wine — what the hell was I thinking? — clothing, a garage-full of tools and two cars. (Now that I think of it, even the relinquished clothing was ridiculous: a dozen suits, a dozen pairs of shoes, two dozen dress shirts… oy, it hurts my brain just to think about it. And by the way, all the clothing still fitted me, so it wasn’t even that any were particularly old or threadbare.)
Recently though, I’ve learned to be absolutely ruthless in paring back stuff. It helps that we have an apartment that cannot contain anything more than what we have, so whenever we see something we’d like to buy for the house, the first question is always what we’ll have to toss out — new stuff is replacement, not additional. This includes clothing, even.
Anyway, let me just give y’all an example of what I’m talking about. This is our breakfast nook/dining room:

And no, it wasn’t posed or set up, but completely impromptu: I was lying on the living-room couch and thought it would make an interesting still-life pic. (That’s why the side pieces of art aren’t hanging symmetrically, sue me. They are now, though.)
In Comments, feel free to share the details of your most wrenching move. Or just tell me what caused you the most anguish to let go…
Like so many of that age, La Bardot has moved on and joined her world of happy bunnies and kittens, so to speak. And few embodied those two species (sex kittens and copulating bunnies) as well as she:

So let us pause, and pay tribute to some other French kissers from the days of yore:
Anouk Aimee

Capucine

Corinne Calvet

Catherine Deneuve

Michèle Morgan
Françoise Hardy

Claudine Auger

Dominique Sanda

…etc.

And in the classics:

So let’s get busy being sick ‘n stuff:











So seeing that ’tis the season:

And while we’re on that train of thought:





Now get on with it… whatever “it” is for you.
Apart from being a really good actress, Kate Winslet has been around for a while. Here she is at age 17, in her first movie:

I should point out that at this time she was bonking one of her co-stars, who was a dozen years her senior. (Before anyone starts harrumphing, allow me to remind you that in Britishland, the age of consent is 16 so she was practically an old maid, by their standards.) Here’s another couple, from the same period:


Then she grew up:




Then there was that regrettable appearance in the Movie We Should Not Name:



And on we go:






I’ll revisit the subject in black and white, some other time.
And I should point out that as I write this, she’s 50 years old.