Isn't That Just Ducky!

Hello there!

Do you want to read this book?

Let's read! I will help you!

<sniff rustle sniffsniff rustlerustle>  (snort) Hmm.

Do you know that there are no pictures in this book?  Silly book!

I can find you a better book.

Sit down right here and I will find you a good book.

(scamper scamper scamperscamperscamperscamper)

<rustlerustlerustlescritchscritchscratchthump!>

(shhttp! tictic shhhtp! tictic shhhhtp!ticticsshhhhttppp!)

Here is a good book! Look! Look! ->

This book is the best!

Let's read! You'll love it! Let's read!

Isn't that just Ducky!


Go Dog Go!  (excerpt)

Dog

Big dog. Little dog.

Big dogs and little dogs. Black and white dogs.

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

"Do you like my hat?"

"I do not."

"Good-by!"

"Good-by!"

- P.D. Eastman, Go Dog Go, 1961.

This is my favorite part! 

Tuesday Tonic - The Big Electron

For your Tuesday Tonic, some classic remarks about human existence from Bill Hicks (who died on this date in 1994 from pancreatic cancer) and George Carlin, delivered inside one of melodysheep's excellent autotunes.

Lyrics:
                                                                                         
Is this real?
Or is this just a ride?

The world is like a ride
You think it's real - it's just a ride
And we can change it any time we want
It's only a choice - between fear and love

The ride goes up and down and round and round
It has thrills and chills and it's very brightly colored
Up and down and round and round
And it's very loud
                                                                                                   
Don't worry, don't be afraid
It's just a ride
And we can change it any time we want
It's only a choice between fear and love

Why are we here?
I think we're part of a greater wisdom
That we won't ever understand
A higher order - call it what you want -
Know what I call it?

The Big Electron. Whoa whoa.

It doesn't punish.
It doesn't reward.
It doesn't judge at all.
It just is.
And so are we...
for a little while.

Monday Music - Men At Work!

For your Monday Music break this week, let's go Down Under and listen to Men at Work!


Down Under

Traveling in a fried-out combie
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said,

"Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover."

Buying bread from a man in Brussels
He was six-foot-four and full of muscles
I said, "Do you speak-a my language?"
He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
And he said,

"I come from a land down under
Where beer does flow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover."

Lyin' in a den in Bombay
With a slack jaw, and not much to say
I said to the man, "Are you trying to tempt me
Because I come from the land of plenty?"
And he said,

"Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover."
Yeah!

Living in a land down under
Where women glow and men plunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover!

Living in a land down under
Where women glow and men plunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover!

Thank Gods It's FreyaDay!

Good Day, Humans.

It is still winter in Minnesota.

But I am a resourceful cat.

I usually prefer my place of honor on the rug

in front of the fire.

Or my position of superiority on the back of the sofa

in front of the fire.

Occasionally, however, I will deign to honor my Human with my company.

As long as she is sitting in front of the fire.

Thank gods it's FreyaDay!



Cat's Dream
- Pablo Neruda

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,

Cat in the Moonlight
watercolor by Chandra Larocque

sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings--
a series of burnt circles--
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,                
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.

Translated by Alastair Reid

Snow in Phoenix?

Not what I had in mind.

Of course there is snow in Phoenix.

NiftyDottir and I are going there tomorrow to catch some sunshine!

And we get to fly out in a snowstorm, too!  Whoopee!

Damn you, Mother Nature! (but remember, kids, global climate change is a hoax!).