This winter it snowed before Christmas. This never happens, except that this year it did. Jim and Joyce always have a Christmas cookie party, but because it snowed it was postponed to today.
I never made buttery sablés before December. The first time I made them I was practicing for their party. The second time I made them was today.
They are the numerous whitish cookies. The other cookies are the ones I brought back from the party. I should have brought more cookies. I only brought about 10 because I didn’t want to bring too many, so many that people wouldn’t want to eat them and it would look like I’d made unpopular cookies.
All 10 cookies got eaten. Next year I will bring more cookies.
It was nice to see everyone. We’ve lived in Durham a long time now.
The race to bake the cookies before I eat all the dough.
Next up: Something on Amazon Prime, perhaps John Huston’s The Man Who Would Be King. AP has had a lot of scuzzy 1970s fare available. No doubt everything that’s not Godfather, Jaws, or Star Wars is cheap to license.
Whatever the reason, in the last week I’ve watched Night Moves, Logan’s Run, Soylent Green, and Jeremiah Johnson, all for the first time. Only Night Moves generated any real interest beyond its museum-piece novelty appeal. But even something as so-so as Logan’s Run looks fresh to any pair of eyes that are exhausted by the digital perfection of even the lamest of current productions, with an endless array of overt and covert digital enhancements to paper over the usually vacuous scripts.
I’ve been able to find a few more vintage films to queue up for the coming days: Joseph Losey’s The Romantic Englishwoman (with Glenda Jackson, script by Tom Stoppard), and Wild in the Streets (a counterculture film from 1968).