In tales of the brain fog: we are screening the Broadway production of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men at the SIFF film center, and I went to see it before my usher shift last weekend. When I told people I was planning to see it, I kept getting the strangest looks; "You do know the story?" said one good friend I told. Well, yes - I read the book in school, after all. Except that I was mentally confusing Grapes of Wrath with Of Mice and Men. Oops. Still, I managed to enjoy the movie even though I spent the whole 150 minutes weeping. One of the interesting things to me about the story is while my mom's half-brothers were never itinerant, they were ranch hands. So I have some slight connection to that culture.
I am enjoying the lights people are putting up, and seeing decorated trees in people's windows.