So Boy in the Balloon never left the ground and we rounded out the evening, thanks to Netflix, watching "Mon Oncle", a half-century-old (!) classic French film I've never seen and have always wanted to, which came through with flying colors in the Mars square Venus Department of Manifestation - or at least I think so.
Mars, in the world according to me, was the *modern* appliances that constantly beeped, buzzed and clanked in the 1950's machine-for-living house that was a fifth major character in the movie, along with plastics-manufacturing husband, neatness-obsessed wife, unhappy little boy and bumbling brother of wife, the "oncle" of the title, despised by his business-obsessed brother-in-law yet envied by same for the mutual love and admiration between uncle and nephew.
Venus, pour moi (it IS a French movie), was the amazing supposed-to-be (and was) hilarious mid-20th century furniture, any one piece of which would fetch thousands of dollars at auction today, and also the overall sweetness of the film, which of course ends with loving reconciliation of father and son, brought about by bumbling oncle.
A bit of a stretch? Dunno. Works for me. And just for the record, I'm writing this with Mercury trine Uranus exact, and I'm pretty sure it's the first time I've posted to this blog in daylight.
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