That’s what my Nan used to call the radio. But then she was born in 1911 or thereabouts. She was in her 30’s when my mother was born.
Wireless. Wi-fi. Ether messages. Inexplicable. Antiquitech. OR TELEPATHY?
Hamlet got it right when he said ….
“And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
We seem to’ve lost that wonder of the awesome, innate, magical side of life. We seem to’ve lost FAITH.
How? Why? When? Where? Who? What?
I’m tele-pathetic-ally connected to an ego so big that he’ll NEVER admit to the magical, strange etc above his gi-effin’-nor-mous EGO.
Shrug. So be it.
Wealthy Mrs. Harter has a heart condition. Her nephew, Charles, who lives with her, buys her a radio for amusement, but strange messages come from it. Could her dead husband really be sending her messages? And why is he warning that her life is in danger?
F1RST story here. I prefer Christopher Lee reading it but – m’eh.
Being a restless and busy person, I have little time to sit and read nowadays. But I love books.
The PERFECT solution for me is audiobooks. I still have a little original ipod that’s easy to carry around in a pocket as I whizz back and forth.
I’ve been listening to many free Agatha Christie short stories on youtube. Philomel Cottage is one that I really liked.
The story became a play. The play became several films. I like the version below because it has Basil Rathbone in (a great Sherlock) and Joan Hickson – whom Mrs Christie herself saw as a perfect Miss Marple…when she was old enough.
Plot Twist coming. After a few minutes from about 48 mins to 52 mins in the film below.
I KNOW that music quite well. And I’ve always hated it when my name was spelled Grieg. Even though I knew the connection. From childhood……or before. 36% Scottish, 29% Scandinavian :o)
Edvard Hagerup Grieg was born in Bergen, Norway (then part of Sweden–Norway). His parents were Alexander Grieg (1806–1875), a merchant and the British Vice-Consul in Bergen; and Gesine Judithe Hagerup (1814–1875), a music teacher and daughter of solicitor and politician Edvard Hagerup. The family name, originally spelled Greig, is associated with the ScottishClann Ghriogair (Clan Gregor). After the Battle of Culloden in Scotland in 1746, Grieg’s great-grandfather, Alexander Greig (1739-1803), originally of Aberdeenshire, travelled widely before settling in Norway about 1770 and establishing business interests in Bergen. Grieg’s paternal great-great-grandparents, John (1702-1774) and Anne (1704-1784), are buried in the churchyard of the abandoned Church of St Ethernan in Rathen, Aberdeenshire, Scotland.
My thanks to a Wonderwall who showed the very worst of man’s ability to cause pain and anguish.
Can’t remember the yt name – youtube free audiobooks or somesuch.
I’m on day three.
About 15 hours of Agatha and a ton of short stories that I’ve never known about before.
Listerdale Mystery, Midwinter Murders.
I’m hooked :o)
Philomel Cottage got me today. Sheesh. It’s a kind of silly story but strangely fas-kin-ating.
Hyocine. I can’t even pretend to understand the video below. I failed chemistry. We were too interested in what a bunsen burner could do and breathing in the asbestos mats underneath them. Aha. That explains too much about my mental health (!)
Philomel Cottage is all about The Power of Suggestion
But today I had something to do that was complicated and not much looked forward to so I put on a yt free audiobook in the background to keep me going.
Midwinter Murder by Agatha Christie.
It’s a series of short stories. Some I know and some I’ve never heard of. The First Story – Three Blind Mice – was totally new. And thoroughly gripping.
Deep mid-winter. A newly married couple who knew little about each other (but it was just after WW2 and so many were damaged by what they’d experienced.)
Molly and Giles are given a gift via a relative of Molly’s. A manor house. They decide to sell it and then (after a few real life realisations) decide to keep it. Victorian furniture and all and set up a Guest House. Charging 7 guineas a week. Meanwhile – in London – there has been the strange and mysterious murder of a woman.
Molly and Giles have no idea what they are doing and accept a few bookings, even though the area is in the grip of 5ft snow drifts and they are almost out of coke to fire the central heating.
Enter a cast of strange characters.
I was entranced….until the end.
If you know Agatha’s work and I say – Poirot’s Christmas, The Mouse Trap, a touch of Endless Night, Greenshaws Folly – you’ll understand the feeling of OK. Whatever.
But I’d still recommend :o)
On to the second story. Oh. I know that one. On to the third story.
We watched the video below very early this morning.
My comment : 28 hours…I’d not even bother to sleep. Too much to see.
His Comment : You’d NEVER eat all that food.
His eyes were huge watching. Caviar on tap. Lobster. Caviar. And a whole caviar menu.
I HATE SEAFOOD.
But French bread and saffron butter and croissants and Veuve Cliquot are nice!
I’d be so high on champagne, running up and down the whole train and looking into everything and quoting scenes from all three Murder on the Orient Express films + book that I may’ve been thrown off about 5 miles outta Calais.
P.S. One single word came up with us throughout the entire video.
I must’ve been “Gay” all my life and never knew it.
That’s a bummer.
I’ve done ALL that Rowan describes, all of my life.
OK. That’s me out of the wardrobe.
I AM OFFICIALLY A GAY FEMALE& SLIGHTLY QUEER TOO!
I’m also a huge Agatha Christie fan and she uses “GAY” to mean happy & “QUEER” to mean strange.
BTW : When I was 6 years old and we had to live with Nan for a while before moving to Scotland, I gathered all the fallen petals from her roses and squished them into a jar of water – to make rose water.
In searching for an image to go above this post I had a choice. I chose the one I KNOW.
But times and words and meanings have changed…
I’ve learned so much from Agatha Christie.
Oh. I have NEVER subscribed to the Mandeloooop Effect. It reminds me too much of Lawyers in Court arguing about FALSE MEMORIES in order to totally total a viable witness. Or NARCS who will go to court and swear on the Bible that they NEVER EVER said what you’ve just accused them of. It must be YOUR faulty memory and not their FAULT!
Sheesh. I’ve just come across the book above. OhMyGiddyAunt.
In the depths of the Depression, millions worldwide followed every twist and turn of the Lindbergh baby kidnap/murder. Yet what was reported was largely fake news. Nearly a century after undocumented immigrant Bruno Richard Hauptmann was executed for the dastardly crime, questions still linger. If the wrong man was convicted, who did it? When? Why? Where? How? The shocking answers this book suggests have eluded all prior authors. Extensive research into dusty archives yielded crucial forensic evidence never before analyzed. Readers are invited to reexamine “the crime of the century” with fresh eyes focused on a key suspect – a tall man wearing a fedora that obscured his face. He was spotted with a ladder in his car near the Lindberghs’ driveway early that fateful night. The police let an insider who fit that description oversee the entire investigation – the boy’s father, international hero Charles Lindbergh. Abuse of power, amorality and xenophobia all feature in this saga set in an era dominated by white supremacists and social Darwinists. If Lindbergh was Suspect No. 1, the man who got away, what was his motive? Who else was involved? Who helped cover up the crime? Read this book and judge for yourself.
All I know about Lindbergh is through my knowledge of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. The kidnapping of the child had only recently happened when she (Agatha) was travelling home on that famous train and decided to combine her real life experiences (being stuck in a snowdrift in Yugoslavia) with the latest news.
But…Oh. Was Lucky Lindy REALLY that nasty? Was his first born…born with rickets and other issues? Was Charles really a Eugenicist who believed that he had PERFECT sperm? Did he really say in public that America should let England be over-run by Germany?
Heyho. Learning something new every day :o)
THREE SECRET FAMILIES IN GERMANY ? ? ? Wow. He was a one-man sperm factory.
This is my local cinema. I’ve been watching films here since I was 10 years old.
And I brought my kids back to my childhood….well almost teenage…home, so they’ve watched many films here too.
It’s about 5 miles away. Just down the road from the Petwood Hotel. Most famously famous for housing the Dam Busters AND GUY GIBSON of Nigger dog fame. From whence the name of the Black Labrador that I grew up with was called. NIGGER. NIGGER. NIGGER.
My dog was called Nigger.
As in Agatha Christie’s Ten Little NIGGERS which became PC’d to And Then There Were None.
BTW : I was given a Black Doll Girl for my 5th birthday and my favourite bed companion throughout my childhood was a Golliwog. Much the same as the one on the image above.
Yet again, I’m being shown my total slowness and stupidity.
It has been there in front of me the whole time time.
SMH and bow it in shame.
Hercule Poirot’s Christmas is a wonderful book. And the TV adaptation is too.
What I failed to see was that KenBran’s film changed the Swedish Greta Ohlsson (brilliantly played by Swedish Ingrid Bergman years before) with Penny Cruz (Spanish) named after the Spanish imposter in the book mentioned above.