First of all, Happy Father’s Day to all the great dad’s out there. And Happy Father’s Day also to all you moms that have done it alone. I’m raising an imaginary glass of champagne at the screen and cheering you all.
I’m sure the dad’s are thinking, “Great. Couldn’t you be raising an imaginary beer or single malt?”
(My segues are ingenious, she says sarcastically while moving the imaginary glass of champagne out of the way so it’s not knocked over by her writing prowess.)
Yesterday was a pajama day for me. Just me, the dog and Litchfield Penitentiary.
Well, almost. I have 3 episodes to go.
I’m definitely enjoying Season 4 over Season 3. No spoilers. I’ll review the show when you’ve all had a change to binge watch.
So after today’s Fathers Day brunch across the river, I’ll be returning to my Netflix nest and finishing up those remaining episodes … Then I’ll feel guilty about not having scrubbed the house – then either a) get over it or b) actually scrub the house. I’m thinking maybe a little of both.
Time to check on the machines … And drink my weekly cup of coffee (I still haven’t had the heart to tell the laundry lady I don’t drink it anymore. But since she’s so sweet to make it just for me – I must courteously caffeine.)
Once again, happy Father’s Day Soupers!!!
Happens to be one of my favorite Beatles songs – and (immediate tangent) if you haven’t yet seen ‘Good Old Freda’ on Netflix yet – and still claim to be a Beatles fan – then go watch it NOW.
On a serious note …
I arrived home – Ah, Friday! I stopped at the grocery store, came sauntering home with ice cream and dog treats – Noticed nice neighbor who was walking his dogs was battling a rogue dog in the neighborhood. I mean, seriously battling – yanking his pups on their leash and tossing rocks at the offending pup. After understanding earlier that my son left Butters outside (after an IM) and thinking it was she that had leapt the fence for some reason and was up the street – I peeled back out of my parking spot and realized my neighbor was battling another dog and it WASN’T Butters – thank goodness – I ‘covered him’ until he got home.
But, there are way too many dogs that are unattended and roam. Butters is only out when I’m home – and when I hear her urgently bark, my arse is outside checking things out and bringing her in.
Anyway!! Got home again.
Put groceries away – grabbed ipad – went outside (I have a peaceful and lovely view of a vacant lot if I put my blinders on – rabbits – quail – silence) put my feet up and was greeted by my unavoidable view of ‘THE neighbors’.
The ones I’ve discussed before.
I’ll keep this short – the video should bore you enough, explain a lot and take up enough of your time.
Bottom line – oldest daughter has graduated from hitting dog with hand to hitting dog with stick. Youngest child is copying oldest and doing same.
The dog that ‘suddenly’ appeared after they had a break in. Or – perceived break in? Who knows anymore.
I say enough in the video – so let’s let that speak a thousand words (and tangents) and any advice would be appreciated.
I will NOT just LEAVE! That would render me ‘Ostrich’ and those kids and that poor pup will still be in the same situation.
I have some solutions. I’m thinking tomorrow, I GO to the Sheriff department and just spill all I know. I have a home inspection next week and I plan to share all I know about the neighbors with them.
I’m doing all I can while protecting my own. And while I wish I was one of those people who did the right thing ‘come what may’ – I have others to think about. My son – my dog.
And when people are on drugs – and when people are violent – there’s no rationalizing with them.
I did not leave the house yesterday. I did not speak a word to another human being all day.
There were no possible moves I could make that would not leave me at a disadvantage – so I stayed mute.
I declared the day Netflix/Nap day and Butters and I became Saturday hermits and shunned the world outside.
After six, yes six independent movies – I made my move – in email form, a simple move requiring only a logical, honest response.
And now I wait.
I started with Mr. Nobody starring Jared Leto. If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time, you know the capacity I have for inner tangents and the propensity to think ‘too much’. What I got out of Mr. Nobody was this odd thought
I thought about all of my exes – yes, all of them. How some of them hated me for ending things. Then I thought of something coming to me before I broke things off with a glimpse of the future for me to consider.
“He has children waiting to be born – and they’re not yours. You have to let him go.”
Next I watched, in no particular order, Prozac Nation, Tiny Furniture, Somewhere and L.I.E. I capped the night off with Muriel’s Wedding because L.I.E. disturbed me somewhat and I needed an ABBA fix.
The Elephants in the Room
No, really, they’re there.
I would stare up occasionally at the ceiling and marvel at the shadows they cast.
Above my bed they hang and dance in their shadow form.
Elephants in the room.
Tangent-minded me thought of a myriad of things they represent.
But for once, I didn’t go too deep.
The silence was enough – to be silent and plunge deeper might have been too far for me to resurface from without that need to gasp for air, lungs burning and stinging eyes.
We’ve all been at the bottom of a pool for too long at some point – you know how that feels.
Too many cups
By mid afternoon I was hungry.
I haven’t really been shopping for myself – all the food in the freezer is for my son, who is rarely home. But I was not going to touch it.
I wanted something warm. I can’t remember the last time I made the effort to cook something more involved than a scrambled egg.
There was nothing.
Then I happened upon a cup-of-noodles that I was sure Nic wouldn’t miss.
I set the kettle to boil and assessed my kitchen.
I glanced at the dish-rack and had a recurring thought. Too many cups. Too many cups and too many utensils.
Who needs such an amount?
Soon it will be just me in the house – and as a grand gesture of sensibility I will remove all but three cups, three plates, three sets of forks, knives, spoons … maybe 4. 4 is a nice even ‘set’ isn’t it?
I don’t think sensibility is the right word. But I can’t think of the one I want – so it shall stay.
The cups and silverware shall not.
I’m downsizing – ridding myself of cupboard fillers and unnecessary space wasters. Of clothes I’ve kept in case I get ‘bigger’ – of dried goods in the pantry I thought I might eat one day.
On a larger scale, I’m relieving myself of internal clutter – persisting thoughts and obsessive compulsive needs.
One box at a time.
And am still waiting for a response to my move. For some honesty and closure.
Then I’ll remove another cup.
Although I’m not going to spoil any details of Season 2 for those of you who have not yet had your Netflix marathon, now would be the time for this:
I watched Season 1 unable to move from my perfect vantage point of Broad Hill. (Not to be confused with Broadmoor. I grew up listening to that test siren in England – you did not want to be outside if those residents should happen to take themselves on an outing.)
I was beyond excited for Season 2 of Derek.
I was in love with all the characters and missed them!
I had never seen anything quite like Derek – which did not fail to make me laugh AND cry in each and every well written episode.
(And yes, you shall need a box of tissues for Season 2 – I can tell you that.)
I became so smitten with the show that I then launched into a marathon of “An Idiot Abroad” to tide me over.
Then the big day arrived.
May 30th, 2014.
All of Season 2 available on Netflix.
I got comfy on the couch, as did my son who I managed to get hooked during the first marathon.
And was in stitches after the spider incident. (Alright, so that’s a tiny spoiler – or, actually, not so tiny *shudder*.)
What then happened as the first episode progressed, was me experiencing a desperate need to love Season 2 so very much that I kept smiling even while my mind was thinking, ‘Okay, what is going on here?’
What was wrong with Dougie’s wig?? Why the almost immediate exit? Where was my closure???? (Ok, another spoiler – but that’s the last one I promise – and it’s not a big secret.)
I had to google. WHY oh why was my Karl Pilkington abruptly and unceremoniously abandoning Broad Hill???
I found this quote by Mr. Gervais.
If you saw him in the first series, [he was] sweating [with nerves],” Gervais explained. “He couldn’t really act with other people, ‘cos he was so nervous. I honestly didn’t know whether to hug him or put him down!”
Ok. I’d heard that before.
But, there couldn’t have been a real goodbye?
Dougie went through a lot more crap in Season 1 that should have had him running for the hills.
Then this information:
Though Pilkington only shot two days on Derek series two, Gervais argued that the character of Dougie “wasn’t really integral” to the show.
Not integral to the show???
Dougie was the moral compass of that show as far as this fan is concerned!
Yes, of course there’s Hannah, but as one of the ‘in crowd’ Dougie was the balance!
He said what we couldn’t. Rolled eyes we couldn’t at the likes of Kev or some idiot insensitive resident relative or Council member.
And most importantly, he tempered Kev and Derek!
Which brings me to Kev. I happen to love him too – but while Derek the show got darker, Kev’s antics in Season 2 went beyond the pale.
Except for a tender moment in a tie – his character was just … sad. Sad and as usual, very horny.
Over the top.
And this is the opinion of a girl who couldn’t wait for the next installment of Kev’s Christmas Crackers videos on Youtube!
Here’s an example.
So you see – I’m not a prude.
I googled again – to see if there was anything more on Karl’s departure.
Well Karl, you not only got away with it – you made the character your own.
And for the record, ‘putting’ yourself in a situation and getting wound up by it’ is actually acting.
There are plenty of A listers that can’t do an Irish accent – or an English one *cough* Kevin Costner, Drew Barrymore *cough*
And you’re lucky you can remember that s***.
And we were lucky you could too.
And we miss you.
We’ll end on a high note shall we?
If you are EVER feeling down – watch this. Watch it over, and over, and over.
Ricky’s laugh is so very contagious … and peeking behind the curtains of Season 1 is oh so satisfying.
I truly hope there will be a Season 3 – and if so – PLEASE please please may Dougie be in charge of those curtains again????