Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Happy Easter - Love Will Find A Way

Good Morning, NiftyReaders and Happy Easter! May you be filled with the hope and joy of springtime, and feel the rejuvenating power of love.  If you've been running low on hope, joy and love, please take a few minutes to watch and listen to the music video below. I promise, it is worth it.

Love Will Find A Way

Til I'm gone away
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say

This is a song for all kinds of people
All of the cities and all of the streets yo
The synagogue and the mosque and the steeple
The bad, ugly, the good and the evil
Some shoot bullets and some shootin' needles
Some are trying to get by with illegals
Getting trapped behind the concrete walls
Some are trying just to get equal

Could you ever
Could you ever
Give more today?
Or could you
Give a little
Give a little
To help love find a way?

And when you feeling like you can't go on
Love will find a way
And through the clouds and smoke and guns and bombs
Love will find a way
And when the whole world falls on their knees to pray
That love will win today
Just keep holding on, holding on
Cause love will find a way

Til I'm gone away
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say

Yo nobody's born hating another person
A mad world puts that poison in us
But if we can learn to hate another person
Then we can learn to love a brother or sister
Another mother or mister
Don't be part of the system
Join the universal nation                           
In every nation                                           

Could you ever
Could you ever
Give more today?
Could you
Give a little
Give a little
To help love find a way?

And when you feeling like you can't go on
Love will find a way
And through the clouds and smoke and guns and bombs
Love will find a way
And when the whole world falls on their knees to pray
That love will win today
Just keep holding on, holding on
Cause love will find a way

Til I'm gone away
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say

Til I'm gone away (Til I'm gone away, til I'm gone away)
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say
Til I'm gone away (Every man, woman and child)
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say
Til I'm gone away (Every color, every nation, every style)
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say
(To create and to liberate and to celebrate)
Til I'm gone away (Not to hate)
This is what I'll say
This is what I'll say
Peace y'all
Peace y'all
Peace y'all
Peace y'all
Peace y'all

- Michael Franti & Spearhead

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Isn't That Just Ducky!


Hello Everybody!

I am so happy to see you again!

Do you see this dancing light? It looks happy and it is warm, too!

I like to sit in front of the warm, happy, dancing light.

I like to sleep near the Christmas Tree, too.

Mama says that the Christmas season ended yesterday on Old Christmas Day.

Nanny says that it was also Three Kings Day and there is a song!

A song for Three Kings Day!  Yay!

I will listen and you can too!

Isn't that just Ducky!!

We Three Kings of Orient Are

We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy Perfect Light

Born a King on Bethlehem's plain
Gold I bring to crown Him again
King forever, ceasing never
Over us all to reign

O Star of wonder, star of night                            
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

Frankincense to offer have I
Incense owns a Deity nigh
Prayer and praising, all men raising
Worship Him, God most high

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes of life of gathering gloom
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

Glorious now behold Him arise
King and God and Sacrifice
Alleluia, Alleluia
Earth to heav'n replies

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light.

- Rev. John Henry Hopkins, New York City, 1857

Friday, January 6, 2017

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Evening, Humans.

I have had a trying few days.

My humans left me to look after the twins while they traveled to visit family over the holidays.

Those two are incorrigible, as you know. I did my best, and I will say no more.

Yes, of course my Human arranged for another human to also look after us, provide food and so on.

But let us be frank; without me, this household would devolve into chaos.

I managed beautifully, as always. And I am happy now that they are back.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

The Year of the Cat

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time 
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime 

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress
running like a watercolour in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations 

She'll just tell you that she came 
In the year of the cat 

She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers 
And you follow 
'till your sense of which direction 
Completely disappears 

By the blue tiled walls
near the market stalls 
There's a hidden door she leads you to

These days, she says,
I feel my life Just like a river running thru

The year of the cat 

Well, she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli

So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat 

Well, morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone 
And you've thrown away the choice
and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on 

But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day 
You know sometime you're bound to leave her 
But for now you're going to stay 
In the year of the cat

- Al Stewart, Peter Wood

Monday, January 2, 2017

New Year's Resolutions

Everyone is talking about New Year's resolutions and for once, I am making one, too.

I resolve to write more. (The secret real resolution is to write daily and post here daily - I'm on the fence about publishing that part for obvious reasons. Ha. We will see if this aside will make the final publishing cut, thus committing me to keeping the resolution or slinking away in self-induced public shame. Double ha)*.

An online friend posted some words of wisdom which I think is appropriate to share (with permission) at this juncture:

"Here is the trick to sticking with resolutions. They involve either making a new good habit or breaking an old bad habit. Research has shown fairly consistently that habit forming and breaking takes roughly 3 weeks to take hold, so if you make it 3 weeks you have a pretty good shot at keeping your resolution. But this is also part of why January 21st is widely regarded as the most depressing day of the year!"  lily cd re

So, there you have it, NiftyUniverse! Don't worry about sticking with your resolutions for a whole year. Simply resolve to do your new thing for three weeks, and the rest will take care of itself!

Isn't that just ducky?  Yes, faithful followers!  Here comes a Ducky photo!



The New Year comes quietly

puppies sleeping, comfort and joy

Keep on, with courage and love.

And one more poem since I am in a philosophical mood! Remember, kids:

Burning the Old Year

Related Poem Content Details

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.   
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,   
transparent scarlet paper, 
sizzle like moth wings, 
marry the air. 

So much of any year is flammable,   
lists of vegetables, partial poems.   
Orange swirling flame of days,   
so little is a stone. 

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,   
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.   
I begin again with the smallest numbers. 

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,   
only the things I didn’t do   
crackle after the blazing dies. 

*(There, I did it.  Ha Ha Ha)

Saturday, November 7, 2015

SISTERS Saturday!

Happy Saturday, NiftyReaders!

For a little Saturday Inspiration, I give you Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen singing and dancing this classic number from Irving Berlin's White Christmas.

I'm excited to be seeing a stage adaptation of that musical this weekend at Drury Lane in Chicago. CAN. NOT. WAIT! The reviews have been fantastic and I was delighted to see that one of my favorite stage performers, Sean Allan Krill will be playing the role of Bob Wallace (the Bing Crosby role in the 1954 film version), so I am pretty sure that I am going to love this production, just because of that fact alone!  (Anyone who was lucky enough to catch Sean Krill in Chicago Shakespeare Theater's spring production of Sense and Sensibility will understand what I am talking about -- oh and looky here! I happen to have a link to a glorious montage from that wonderful musical!).

This particular number has been one of my favorite film songs for a long time and since my own sister will be arriving tonight for a long anticipated visit, it is the perfect musical Saturday inspiration. The movie White Christmas has long been "our" holiday movie and this song in particular always brings smiles and laughter.  By happy coincidence, the Drury Lane production of the musical coincided nicely with our visit and so we will be able to attend together. Yes!

Enjoy your Saturday!

Friday, November 6, 2015

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

The Inscrutable Cat

She crouches, a silent golden sphinx,
And thinks and drowses and yawns and thinks . . .
Of cosmic riddles old as Osiris?
Behold her there like a fur-swatched heiress,
A jewel-eyed hedonist whose mind
Is filled with the thoughts of her occult kind:
Herself and her own desires. In short,
Will I let her stay on the davenport
Or put her out? And dare she try
To capture a goldfish by-and-by?
Veiled and inscrutable, she hunches
And ponders profoundly how soon lunch is.

-- (Georgie Starbuck Gailbraith)

Greetings, humans.

It has come to my attention that you have been deprived of my presence for some time. This outrageous situation must be rectified at once, and I have instructed NiftyWriter to correct it immediately, on pain of my everlasting disdain.

The pathetic humans believed I would be mollified by their offering of wine and ridiculous kitchen linen. It is foolishness like that which causes me to despair for humanity.

Nothing can assuage the pain of such disrespect! However, I will condescend to accept tokens of atonement and abject groveling.

This is a step in the right direction, human. 

Going forward, all laps become my personal thrones. The photo on the right depicts a reasonably good start.

Although, I notice there are no delicious treats being proffered here.

See to it that I am left undisturbed for several hours.  Your legs are numb and you need to get up? I don't want to hear it.

Have you forgotten that I have been ignored for well over a year on NiftyIdeas? Yes, I will never let that egregious fact be forgotten.

The world has been deprived of me for too long and it is necessary for me to take matters into my own paws.

The world has also been deprived of updates on the terrible twosome, aka Apollo and Artemis. This is perhaps for the best. They continue to display behavior unbecoming to cats and both of them bring shame upon my kingdom our household daily.

I shall commence redoubling my effort to restore order and serenity in the Kingdom of Freya.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Look at those two. Just look at them! 

Friday, November 8, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

We had our first real snow on Tuesday.

Oh no, your eyes are not deceiving you

I said "snow".

What is this place?
Warm sun on my face, while the chilly air
lightly whispers against my body. Odd!
I think I like this!

Leaves are still on the shrubbery

and now they are covered with snow!

Scarlet foliage now draped in frosty white;

fluffy white collars on street lamps and railings.

Is this a magic place?

Some days, I think so.

It is a place where seasons flip and twirl

and the morning light shines down

on daily surprises.

I think I like this place.

It is obviously too cold

but still ...

I think I like it.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Snow Cat

The tiger stirred from sweet repose
For hunger grew once more...
Despite the cool, cool ice that froze,
The pain began to gnaw...
The boy-twin peers outside, but inside his
silly head thoughts of heroism and
adventure swirl.  He is a feline
Walter Mitty. (sigh)
His eyes now looked with stern intent
At creatures near and far,
Not one of these could be his friend,
For his sharp claws could scar...
He prowled along, with stealth, with guile,
His eyes like black night coals.
His hidden hunger would defile
His soul with evil goals.
He didn't pine for fruit or grass
Like other creatures would...
If he saw them, he'd merely pass
For he sought something good.
To him, that meant some meat to eat
And nothing else seemed right...
For this, he'd chase and he'd compete
With courage and with might!
He looked so sleek, so fit, so firm,
So proud and quite supreme...
Yet he must serve this Winter term
A prisoner to his dream...
The creatures feared him night and day...
They hid when he came close...
To him, they were his meat, his prey...
To them, his life he owes...

- Denis Martindale

Friday, November 1, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

What a to-do last night!

I believe there was some kind of madness in the air.

Tiny humans running door to door,

shrieking and calling for treats.
The scene at this establishment last night.
Why ever did young humans interpret this
as an invitation? Sssssssilly humansss!

Or was it tricks?

I don't remember.

Anyway, who cares?

I was disturbed from my siesta.

Today, I must recover.

I shall lie down here and rest.

I will think of Eliot's wise words,

and listen to beautiful music.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

“With Cats, some say, one rule is true:
Don’t speak till you are spoken to.
Myself, I do not hold with that —
I say, you should ad-dress a Cat.
But always keep in mind that he
Resents familiarity.
I bow, and taking off my hat,
Ad-dress him in this form: O Cat!
But if he is the Cat next door,
Whom I have often met before
(He comes to see me in my flat)
I greet him with an oopsa Cat!
I think I've heard them call him James —
But we've not got so far as names.”
― T.S. Eliot, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Isn't That Just Ducky!

Hello there!

I have a new sweater!

It's a pumpkin sweater!

I like wearing my pumpkin sweater.

I'm wearing it for Hallowe'en!

I think it might be lucky

to wear my pumpkin sweater

as we walk on the trails.

Happy Hallowe'en!

Isn't that just Ducky!


If you are superstitious you'll never step on cracks.
When you see a ladder you will never walk beneath it.
And if you ever spill some salt you'll thrown some 'cross your back,
And carry' round a rabbit's foot just in case you need it.
You'll pick up any pin that you find lying on the ground,
And never, never, ever throw your hat upon the bed,
Or open an umbrella when you are in the house.
You'll bite your tongue each time you say
A thing you shouldn't have said.
You'll hold your breath and cross your fingers
Walkin' by a graveyard,
And number thirteen's never gonna do you any good.
Black cats will all look vicious, if you're superstitious,
But I'm not superstitious (knock on wood).

- Shel Silverstein

Friday, October 25, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

Autumn is settling in and there is a nip in the air.

Really, I am being too kind.

Most mornings it is frigid out there.

I need a little comfort, a little escape.

I know! I will listen to a favorite poem.

You may watch and listen, too.

You're welcome.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
   In a beautiful pea-green boat:
They took some honey, and plenty of money
   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
   And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,
   What a beautiful Pussy you are,
            You are,
            You are!
   What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,
   How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried,
   But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
   With a ring at the end of his nose,
            His nose,
            His nose,
   With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
   Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
   By the turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
   They danced by the light of the moon,
            The moon,
            The moon,
   They danced by the light of the moon.

- by Edward Lear

via Carol Rainbow

Friday, September 27, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

It is a glorious early fall day and it ought to be a very good day.

But it is not.


Look at us!

My human has shut us all up in her study to write.

Just look at us! Buried indoors while the sun shines outside!

Do you see that door, Human?

Do you see that glorious sunshine just outside there,

just beyond our reach?

This will not do! I must put my paw down.

Wait! She is getting up! She must have heard my impatient remarks!

She is closing that infernal machine!

We are going outside!

I am always so gratified when my Human listens to my wise words.

Good day, Humans. Yes, it IS a good day!

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

That's betterrrrrr!

A wish

Of all our sunny world
I wish only for a garden sofa
where a cat is sunning itself.

There I should sit
with a letter at my breast,
a single small letter.
That is what my dream looks like.

- Edith Södergran (1892-1923)
   poet and photographer of cats
   via Cultural Cat

Friday, September 20, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Cats are Wonderful Friends

Gentle eyes that see so much,
paws that have the quiet touch,
Purrs to signal "all is well"
and show more love than words could tell.
Graceful movements touched with pride,
a calming presence by our side
A friendship that takes time to grow
Small wonder why we love them so.

Author Unknown

Good Day, Humans.

I've been very busy all summer.

We have moved!

Again. Yes, again!

One wonders if my Humans are completely mad.

Not I, of course, but one might wonder.

Or two. The twins wonder about everything

every second of the day.

But not I.

For I am...

The Cat of the House

Over the hearth with my 'minishing eyes I muse; until after
the last coal dies.
Every tunnel of the mouse,
every channel of the cricket,
I have smelt,
I have felt
the secret shifting of the mouldered rafter,
and heard
every bird in the thicket.
I see
Nightingale up in the tree!
I, born of a race of strange things,
of deserts, great temples, great kings,
in the hot sands where the nightingale never sings!

Ford Madox Ford

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Isn't That Just Ducky!

Hello there!

Look at me! I am on top of the world!

I can see the sea and the sun and the hills and the sky!

Look at me! Look at the sea and the sun and the sky!

Mama and me walk on the paths nearly every day and I love it!

I am on top of the world!

Let's go again, Mama! Let's go!

Isn't that just Ducky!

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Isn't That Just Ducky!

Hello there!

I am helping Nanny!

I am helping her to write!

I make Nanny laugh and laugh because I am so helpful!

I help her take breaks. I help her to play!

You know, playing is much
more funner than work!
Let's play, Nanny!

Let's play now! Right now!

Let's play right now this minute!

Tap, tap, snuffle. Tap, tap, snort.

Let's play!

<sigh> <snort> <tap, tap, tap, tap...>

OK, I think I have helped enough today!

Isn't that just Ducky!

Mother Doesn't Want a Dog

Mother doesn't want a dog.
Mother says they smell,
And never sit when you say sit,
You know, Nanny, it really
could be worse!
Or even when you yell.
And when you come home late at night
And there is ice and snow,
You have to go back out because
The dumb dog has to go.

Mother doesn't want a dog.
Mother says they shed,
And always let the strangers in
And bark at friends instead,
And do disgraceful things on rugs,
And track mud on the floor,
And flop upon your bed at night
And snore their doggy snore.

Mother doesn't want a dog.
She's making a mistake.
Because, more than a dog, I think
She will not want this snake.

-  Judith Viorst

Friday, May 31, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Morning, Humans.

I am in a box.

I enjoy playing in this box.

My humans think it is funny that I am in this box.

They are so silly.

They do not realize that I am playing an exciting game I call Physics Cat!

I am Physics Cat! I am exploring the limitations of quantum mechanics.

If Apollo or Artemis wander over here, I'll show them some entanglement, too!

I am Physics Cat!

I am alive, I am frisky and I like to play in this box!

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Schrödinger's Cat

Photons spin, electrons whirl,
down there in odd quantum worlds.
The game is changed, some say deranged,
the sub-atomic ways are strange
and mysterious, and seriously surreal.

Is what you see, what you get;
There is no paradox here, Humans.
a particle of truth or a wave of regret?
The choppy chaos of the paradigm bet;
a unique mathermatic to fathom the set.

A new kind of looking with a new range of tools.
Up close and personal with weird molecules.
The study of coincidence that overturns the rules,
of anomalous phenomena and the prophesy of fools.

Protons spin, neutrons twirl,
like batons thrown by cheering girls.
Atoms twin in a spiral dance,
of random proteins, where all is chance
and mysterious, and seriously surreal.

In the multiples of universe, the elements collide,
to fashion pious fabulum in all its form and pride.
The infinite possibilities, the vistas open wide
to the parallel realities, existing side by side.

Micron thin, the plasma swirls,
deep within these nano worlds.
When is a cat, not a cat;
when it is, or where it's at?
It's all mysterious, and seriously surreal.

- David Smith-White

Friday, May 3, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

It is the third of May. Yay May.

We had a lovely time last weekend.

Sunshine, birds singing, warm spring temperatures.

Yesterday, we woke up to snow.

Today, we woke up to more snow.

Yay May.

I have decided that my humans must be superhumans.

They work, they cook, they laugh and they give me scritches

in spite of the weather. Yay May.


Of course they are. They have me.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

February   M A Y ?

Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries                                            Make
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am                                                
He’ll think of something. He settles                                                             it
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,                                       be
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.                                                              Spring!
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
and your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring.

-Margaret Atwood

Friday, April 5, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

As you can see, I have been able to venture away from my nook by the fire at last.

Most of the snow has melted.

The sun is shining.

It is still not fit for human nor cat out there, but things are gradually improving.

The sun is shining and it is not below freezing.

At last.

I anticipate a glorious weekend of watching the world go by through this window.

No, of course I have no plans to go outside. Are you mad? It is still cold out there!

But here in the window, in the sunshine, I am content.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

For a little fun today, let's do a TGIF activity! Gather the kiddies around!

Copy this picture to make a poetry or story-starter page. Imagine a beautiful, elegant, totally regal cat (you can refer to the photo of moi above for some stellar inspiration!). You can create an amazing piece of artwork and a poem! Feel free to describe how beautiful and elegant I am using plenty of superlatives. Really, it is impossible to overdo the praise. Be creative! Amaze all of your friends!

No need to thank me. As always, you're welcome!

via Brian Morse at The Poetry Society

Friday, March 22, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Morning, Humans!

May I present to you some must-see video?

Our very own Apollo will demonstrate why no home should be without a cat.

Or three.

Definitely three cats.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Ying & Yang

One is a tortie, the other Ginger & White,
one loves to cuddle, the other loves to fight.

When they were born there was no one to care,
they were cold & hungry and had fleas in their hair.

Then came the day when they found a new home,
with food always there and toys of their own.

A meowmie to snuggle with and a daddy to play,
for the first time in their lives it's going their way.

Now nothing can hurt them, they can be cold again never,
they can finally be happy, for now and forever.

-Leanne Conway

Our "Yin and Yang",  Artemis and Apollo aka the twins!

Friday, March 15, 2013

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

Shhhh! My human is sleeping.

She has been very, very busy working on her computer.

She has been struggling with an enemy inside that computer that sounds like

"The edit from H E double hockey sticks!"
Shhhh, you two!

It is an epic battle.

But my human will win.

For now, though, my warrior human must sleep.


Thank gods it's FreyaDay!

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Isn't That Just Ducky!

Hello there!

Do you know that I like to play?

I like to run!

I like to run and play!

In the winter, it is hard for me to run outside.

The snow is too high and I am too little.

So, I run and play inside!

I am a good dog. I only bark when I am asking you to play with me.

And I am a good listener.

I am a good dog, and I like to run and play!

Isn't that just Ducky!