Daily Blague

After lunch yesterday, I put on Topper and got to work on the icebox. (Amazing that such a word should survive into the twenty-first century, but that's what both my parents, born 1914 and 1918, called it.) Its condition was, to use the term a plumber once applied to my sink, "neglected." A sticky brown goo had spread over the bottom shelf, and getting rid off it tore my sponge to pieces. But I prevailed. The refrigerator is much cleaner. More important, it's emptier. The challenge will be to keep it that way.

Because of my non-moving back, I would be much happier with the sort of refrigerator that is mounted over, not beneath, the freezer, but nobody manufactures such an appliance for the space available in my kitchen. As a result, I'm faced with the choice of knocking things over because I can't see them or getting down on my knees. A third alternative, and real solution, occurred to me a while ago: everything is either in bins or on sturdy trays. This makes cleaning the glass shelves very simple. But I don't always load the bins and trays properly. That's why I want greatly reduced load. Ideally, I'd have a "bachelor's box" - beer and a few condiments. It will never be that spare. For one thing, I have jillions of condiments. Jams and jellies too - something of a problem because I don't have a sweet tooth and Kathleen is avoiding carbs these days and has never been a bread-eater.

It killed me to throw away all the chocolate. But it was unusable. And what do I do with two small bottles of Medaglia d'Oro instant espresso (essential for many desserts)? How about "brewing" a cup? I wonder what that would taste like now, in the age of Starbucks.

There's still too much in the freezer, even though I threw much of what was in it away. At least I reclaimed the ice bucket.

Topper was great fun. It's possibly the most Archie Leach of Cary Grant's movies. Constance Bennett and Roland Young are perfect, although I always think of Leo G Carroll in the title role, thanks to the Fifties TV show. And while we're making comparisons, Billie Burke's Clara is a lot less amusing than Lee Patrick's Henrietta (why the name change, I wonder). But the supporting cast sparkles with such luminaries as Alan Mowbray (as the butler) and Eugene Pallette (as the house detective). Hedda Hopper has one of her socialite moments, and Hoagie Carmichael plays himself. In the end, Roland Young's Topper carries the movie - which is as it should be.