It's a Hard Duck Life

Because I can't resist a good animal story - and not because I'm bowing under pressure from certain people for a new post posthaste - here is a quick link to an absolutely adorable chain of events. Although not too encouraging with regard to the common sense of ducks. Plus Spokane! Where my wundebar cousin works and where I had a delightful day, during my visit a few years ago, as I waited for her to finish work .

Enjoy!!

Duck Crossing

AWOL

I'm going to be a bit absent for the next two or so weeks as I participate in that rite of passage known as Super Fast Moving Madness.

I'm happy to say that after months of searching I've found an apartment that meets all of my high maintenance real estate needs. Most importantly, its first floor status will allow my mother to return home from rehab significantly sooner than expected. But since our move-in date is the first of August and I just signed the lease on Friday afternoon, there's not a whole heck of a lot of time to take my third floor brownstone apartment and pack and condense it into a significantly smaller domicile. Ergo, I will be temporarily abandoning you, my not so gentle readers.

Try not to have too much fun without me.

Alan Rickman is a god

I adore the actor Alan Rickman. For those of you who only know him as Snape in the Harry Potter films, you're missing out on the expanded repertoire of an accomplished, wicked, delightful, talented man. Who else could have imbued Snape with such humanity and complexity? Having finished reading the HP oeuvre, I'm even more keen than ever to watch Snape's vindication unfold onscreen and to see what amazing things Rickman does with it.

Beyond the HP films is the fantastic Truly, Madly, Deeply with the supreme Juliet Stevenson, directed by the late, great Anthony Mingella. Probably his most famous movie role is the villainous role of Hans Gruber in Die Hard, his first American film role, where he set the standard for the modern villain while uttering these immortal lines:

"'When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.' The benefits of a classical education."

And of course Rickman's wickedly delightful Sheriff of Nottingham in the best damn thing about Robin Hood Prince of Thieves:

"I'll eat your heart out with a spoon!"
"Why a spoon cousin?"
"Because it hurts more, you twit!"

Campy and cartoony, but oh so much fun.

(Folks, I didn't even have to look those quotes up.)

I could go on and on - as you all no doubt are well aware - but I do have a point; this clip below.




Sizzling hot, sexy and tender with a world of class.

And then there's that tango.

Gotta go stick my head in the freezer now.

Make Way for Ducky!

Courtesy of my awesome friend Jenn who also serves as peanut gallery foreman:


And...


Things are going just swimmingly.

We Named the Dog Indiana

There I was, looking for some watch batteries in Target via the action figures aisle (go figure) when I saw him, grinning a goofy grin from his ignoble perch. The culmination of months of searching Walmarts far and wide, full of unintelligible employees parroting "Uh, we don't carry that."

Behold.




Taters of the Lost Ark. HA! The whip slays me, absolutely slays me. He even has a smashing leather jacket. Then there's the little golden idol in the shape of a Mr. Potato Head.


I love it. And when you press the hat, it plays the opening two bars to the Indiana Jones theme.

What a freaking riot.

Sleep Therapy

I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Mostly I lay in bed, cats to the left of me, cats to the right, stuck in the middle with an insomnia of sorts. I find it difficult to get comfortable, though Lord knows it's not from a lack of pillows as I've somehow managed to surround myself with a fort of them in all different shapes and sizes. No, it's my mind that just won't be quiet, churning away, fixating on the stressful items I don't have time to focus on during the day. What sleep I do get is frequently interrupted as I'll wake up several times throughout the night for various reasons. Each time, I have to start the sleep process all over again, like downshifting my car through its gears - if my car was a stick shift instead of a knee-friendly-if-less-fun automatic.

My wonky dreams aren't helping as they seem to sift through the same issues I deal with during the day. Doesn't tend to facilitate a restful sleep. It's gotten to the point that I dread turning out the lights. I've tried some medication, but it's a last resort because without enough time to sleep off the effects, I wake up groggy and function poorly throughout the day. I'm a night owl by nature - I start to wake up around 8pm - but even I fade early when I've only gotten an average of fours hours sleep a night in a week's time.

I was slugging through my day yesterday (in desperation, I'd taken a muscle relaxer around midnight) when my eyes fell on the inspirational flip calendar my sister had given me for Christmas a good seven or eight years ago. Each day lists a verse or a quote on a variety of themes though mostly relating to issues of faith. Although dated, the calendar has no year or days of the week, which allows me to flip through it anew every year. I've often found encouragement from this calendar, and once place two particular quotes from it on my office wall several years ago when I was going through a particularly tumultuous time with my family. They're still there to this day.

The calendar has been stuck in September since last year when I landed on a verse that particularly resonated. Yesterday, it gonged again.

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:8

So there I lay last night, awake again, repeating this verse over and over again in my head until I fell asleep, which actually happened fairly quickly. And when I woke up at God knows what hour and feared I might not get back to sleep, I thought of that verse again and dropped off. At least until 5am when my bladder and an insistent Baxter woke me up. Every time I stopped scratching her and tried to drift back to sleep, she'd bumped her head against my hand until I started scratching again. Persistent kitty.

I'm certain the sleep I had was thanks to the relaxing inspiration of the Psalm, to consciously working to release my burdens to Him and dwell in safety. But I'm sure the medicinal rum didn't hurt either.