The Woodshed, So to Speak

It has been some time since I realized that my life as a gimp reminded me of something--or someone. But it took some time for that realization to filter down to my subconscious so that I could recognize exactly who it was. And indeed, it was a bit of a surprise to me who.

Aunt Ada Doom:"I saw something nasty ... I saw something nasty."
Flora:"Aunt Ada--"
Aunt Ada Doom:"Something nasty in the woodshed. Go away girl."
Flora:"How long have you been in there, Aunt Ada."
Aunt Ada Doom:"Ever since my Judith married Amos."
Flora:"Isn't is lonely?"
Aunt Ada Doom:"Lonely? I saw something nasty in the woodshed. "
Flora:"Did you? What?"
Aunt Ada Doom:"I don't remember anymore. I was little. Something terrible."
Flora:"And it was in the woodshed? Are you sure?"
Aunt Ada Doom:"Course I'm sure . . . or maybe the potting shed. Or the bicycle shed."
Flora:"Or the tool shed? All these years: getting five good meals a day, running the farm, ruling the roost. Everyone doing exactly as you say and sacrificing their lives for yours. It's not bad is it. Just for seeing something nasty in the woodshed."

No, I am not an old and "distinguished" lady nor do I check all of our account books--or any of them for that matter. It is really the last bit that reminds me of my situation: the benefit of being waited on since the crutches make it difficult to carry things about myself. And while I don't quite get five meals a day, three meals more or less delivered to my side still makes me feel quite pampered. On top of that in the last few weeks I have been quite reclusive; staying more or less in the house for a variety of reasons (sickness, tiredness, fear of the top step in the garage ...). So if you begin receiving messages of a peculiar nature on your answering machines, now you know why. Personally I favor "There will always be Sorensens in Rochacha!"

On two partially related notes. There are absolutely no pictures of Aunt Ada Doom on the Internet. I looked high and low but was finally forced to take a picture of the movie on my computer screen. So I do apologize for the glare of the camera/screen clash. Secondly, I promised one of my friends that during my convalescence I would undertake a research project on Rufus Sewell's comparative eye droopiness and I have the results. I believe that it is a characterization method to show the relative evilness of his characters--and that's my final word. Thus in Cold Comfort Farm and Amazing Grace it is really not that noticeable as compared to A Knight's Tale, The Illusionist, or even The Holiday where it is much more noticeable. Incontrovertible proof if I do say so myself.