Urban and the Shed Crew – a Review

Urban and the Shed Crew – a Review


I have been eagerly awaiting Guylty’s thoughtful, balanced and insightful review of “Urban” and here it is. A very good read!

Originally posted on Guylty Pleasure:

Attempt number 5 at getting a review of UATSC down. Yes. It has taken me five days and four scrapped attempts to finally post my review of UATSC. To jump ahead, I think the film is good. But I almost felt a little bit too entertained and not quite affected enough by it, due to the aesthetic and plot choices in it. And I acknowledge that that is due to having read the book – which has resulted in my own interpretations and own mental visualisation of the story. As it is, the film is film-maker Candida Brady’s own, individual interpretation of the story. And it is therefore separate from the book and equally valid. My difficulty at coming to a conclusion about the film’s merits is hampered by my expectations, based on the source material – which potentially makes my review unfair.

UATSC cover The cover of the 2005 memoir, available here

You see, I walked…

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A great black cat crossed her path today . . . Happy Guyday Friday the 13th!


“Some people think days like today are most unlucky …” He purred.

She smiled, tilting her head. “But I’ve never been superstitious.”

A flash of white teeth. Clear blue eyes tinged with grey gleamed as he leaned in close. Dangerously close.

“So you have no fear of black cats crossing your path, my lady?” A dark whisper, murmured in her ear.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest. Could he hear it?

“No . . . not at all. They are such–beautiful, elegant creatures. Who simply need to be–appreciated.”
She caught her breath as she felt his strong, nimble fingers wrap around one wrist, gently caressing it. He spoke again, his voice husky and deep.

“And you have the right touch to tame the beast, my lady?”

She sighed. “Just let me show you . . .”

A dark laugh. “With pleasure . . .”

guyday friday 13th

Casually Strolling Into Madness – #UATSC Premiere Part 2


Dog tired but glad to get a dose of Thorin


Have you ever been so tired you could barely hold your head up? Part of it’s physical and part of it’s mental and emotional. We have a humane society pet calendar due two weeks from tomorrow and I haven’t been able to meet with the publisher yet due to issues for both of us. She’s been swamped and I’ve been sick. Thursday should finally be the day.

She has all the photos and stories and info in her possession that I have put together and supplied to her and I have complete faith in her ability to lay it all out and I will step in and supply captions and proofing. I’ve known her for years, I know her skill set and ability to meet deadlines. But the humane society president doesn’t know all these things and I feel him breathing down my neck because this isn’t the way the previous printer and the previous project chair did things. *sigh*

Of course, the previous printer, who undeniably did good work, was charging us so much for the print job we weren’t making a lot of profit. And the previous project chair got burned out and also managed to alienate some of the people submitting photos by more or less insulting their precious pets. As someone confided to me, “No one wants to hear their dog’s too ugly to be in the calendar.”

No, indeed. Don’t bite the hand that shells out the dollars for the calendars, dear.

Anyway, I am on my second round of antibiotics now and I think the remaining lesions are beginning to fade a bit. I haven’t had a weeping blister in several days and should definitely be past the contagious stage. I think the meds are starting to really sap what energy I have, which is never where I would like it to be.

I was able to go out in public and cover two events Saturday with normal makeup and just a little extra concealer. I didn’t scare the children or farm animals (Old Time Farm Day was one of the events). My skin’s still itchy and tender and molting a bit, but at least I don’t feel so ickily leprous. There’s improvement; I guess I am just too impatient. Today, I’ve been nauseous and dizzy and overwhelmingly tired.

And then something came tonight after dark via the UPS lady, who calls me “sugah” and “darlin'” but keeps a sharp eye out for our GSD (“Once you’ve been bitten, you just extra careful, ya know?”)
I do know.

The parcel, heavy for its size, contained the final Weta Chronicles book on the Hobbit films and it completes my collection. I haven’t had the money to splurge on some of the Hobbit merchandising but I always seem to find room for books.

And these books are something special, handsomely bound with lavish illustrations and copious photographs, so much detail about the costuming, makeup and prosthetics, set design and decoration, and the artists and craftspeople who painstakingly create worlds upon the screen that only previously existed in the imagination. These are keepsakes and the sort of books I love to revisit from time to time.


Naturally, the first thing I look for is anything related to Thorin and Richard.




There’s more I’d like to say about Richard’s own thoughts and impressions recorded in this volume and those of the individuals who worked with him, but my brain is too sludgy tonight to even attempt it. Maybe tomorrow . . . tomorrow is another day.

Happy Halloween from The Dark Side . . .


“You are still such a temptation . . .”

A single saturnine brow is raised.

“Oh–am I?” A husky purr from deep in his throat.

“Ummmm-hmmmmm.” Her lips curved into a teasing smile.

“So many of us ready to fall at your feet . . .”

A flash of white teeth in the semi-darkness.

“Including–you, my lady?”

A soft sigh slowly exhaled. “Always . . .”

A velvet chuckle. “Well, then—I shall see you on the dark side, my angel.”

be reborn

Happy Halloween!

What’s blue & cute & has a great message? Read on! Raising funds for our CBK!



Need a cute blue tee bearing an important message? Want to help seven furry orphans in the storm? Check out my newest “Musings” blog post! :D

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

It’s a long-sleeved Gildan unisex tee in a lovely shade of Carolina Blue from Boosters.com, that’s what! Super comfy and perfect for cooler weather, the Crick Bank Kitties tee comes in all sizes from Youth Extra Small to Adult 5XL.

Each Crick Bank Kitties tee is $25, with profits going to cover medical expenses of the seven new (formerly abandoned) feline mouths we are feeding, vetting, socializing and eventually spaying and neutering. We want them all to have a happy, healthy life full of love.
crick bank

crick bankshirt front

Take a look at the back and you’ll see it ALSO has a special message, because cats DO multiply like crazy and spaying and neutering is the most humane way to decrease the surplus pet population. Too many kittens are born into situations where they are not wanted, many ending up abandoned like the Crick Bank Kitties or surrendered to shelters where the overwhelming odds are they will be…

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Hail, hail, the (Crick Bank Kitty) gang’s all here! Happy, sad, and scabby (me, not the kitties)



Update on my real life activities with the Crick Bank Gang and this weird bacterial infection . . . Happy, Sad and Scabby. That’s me!

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

The beautiful and regal Midnight, the eldest of the Crick Bank Kitties (who came from various assorted and sundry litters, it seems).

In this past week, we’ve gained three new family members and said a final goodbye to another.

It all happened on the same day, in fact. Benny, who is, I’ve decided, the cat whisperer of Butler County, took the TNR trap we borrowed from Annie and managed, one at a time, to capture Midnight, Smokey and Marmalade and bring them to the house. Finally–all of the Crick Bank Gang Kitties were residing on Pecan Ridge. Hooray!

P1190610cuddlewPunkin Punkin decided to cuddle with Marmalade, Smokey and Midnight on Friday night. Benny alerted me to this “Kodak Moment.”

However, our happiness was tempered by the loss of sweet, curious, gentle Spock, he of the alien-looking ears and unusual blue-green eyes. Unlike the other kittens we had already rescued, Spock never seemed to gain…

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After eight years, Richard Armitage, you still move me.


I don’t have the extended edition of the BOTFA yet (maybe for Christmas if I am a very good girl). However, I have certainly appreciated getting to see the clip of   the preparation for Thorin’s final scene and the numerous screen caps from various bonus videos people have posted.


Seeing these various images–some solemn, others light-hearted–touched off a wellspring of emotions inside me.  How could I not fail to be moved seeing Richard’s preparation for Thorin’s death scene? Seeing how he lay there so quiet, so still and deep in thought, as the crew members moved around him, shifting snow, adjusting his costume, saying very little themselves as if recognizing the solemnity of the occasion.

untitled (2)

And then watching Martin and Richard acting that scene–absolutely heartbreaking. I remembered my husband reaching over and squeezing my hand to comfort me as the tears flowed freely down my face watching that scene in the theater. And I cried once again as I watched it unfold on the screen of my laptop.

Richard Armitage, I am not sure there is anybody who can die more–beautifully, poetically–than you onscreen.  I might be prejudiced, of course–but you do have a tremendous capacity to move me with your artistry.


I was also very touched seeing the little shrine the crew created on the spot where the death scene took place.

It was a fitting way to honor this larger-than-life character and the rather extraordinary man who brought him so vividly, unforgettably to life.  Here’s to Thorza!


Seeing the smile on your face as you talk about it makes me believe you were also touched by the tribute, both proud and humbled by this gesture.

Seeing you in full concentration mode–the dedicated, focused actor who is always on task–and in those lighter moments when Richard breaks through the Thorin guise and we see the grins and laughter, the humor, sweetness and genuineness reflected in those eyes–well, I am once again impressed by that dedication and drawn to the man I perceive you to be. Unpretentious, good-humored, attentive, discerning.







And huggable. Huggable is very important.



Oh, those eyes. That smile. I won’t even get into how impossibly sexy you also are here (ah, there goes that head bob as you murmur a self-deprecating remark). Beyond the obvious attractions of grey-tinged beard (growing older ever so gracefully, you are), glimpsed chest hair, lovely crinkles and that plaid shirt with its tempting snaps, there’s that aura you exhude. Yes, even in a screen cap of a candid moment.  Especially in such a moment.

Richard Armitage, after more than eight years as a fan, you still move me. Move me to tears, to smiles, to giggles, to that funny little flutter in my heart and in my stomach.

ARRRRR! Just some Sunday afternoon silliness. Good for ails ye!


I did a few photo edits of Face in Hole graphics of Richard as a pirate a while back and posted some of them on Twitter and FB. I ended up playing around with some more while trying to take my mind off the pain, itching and ugly blisters all over my body.
So as I fight something called Erysipelas and mourn the passing of one of our kittens, I still take comfort in imagining a lot of Tall, Dark and Toothsome with a cutlass and gold earring or two . . . Arrrrrrrrr! Arrrrmitage is good for what ails ye, wenches!








MSRA, MSRA, go away! My rollercoaster life, the Crick Bank Kitties and other stuff



I am beginning to wish for that boring and normal life . . . but it’s more like Roseanne Roseannadanna, “It’s always somethin’!” Update on my health, the kitten rescue and local trolls

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

As Forrest Gump, a fellow (if fictional) Alabamian said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You just never know what you’re gonna get.” In some ways, Forrest was a very smart man.

I thought I had gotten a bad case of ringworm from my newly adopted furry babies. I was slathering on antifungal cream like mad. I even used diluted bleach on one of my arms, I was so desperate for relief. It eased off the itching for a couple of hours but that’s about it. The red lesions just kept spreading and itching and weeping and bubbling up and driving me nuts, keeping me awake at night and feeling miserable all day.

So I went to the doctor yesterday. Turns out it’s not ringworm, but a rather widespread case of staph, and most likely, MRSA (I should know for sure on Monday). If you get spots on your body that look…

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Because they aren’t trash to be dumped. Why I am asking for your help



We’ve had a unexpected increase in our furry family with more to come–if you can help us with medical expenses, it would mean so much. Thank you. <3

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

One evening last week, Benny came home and said, “Do you want to go on a kitten rescue mission?”
I think he already knew the answer to that one.

We’d had a lot of rain the night before. So that particular morning on the way to work he decided to go a different route and avoid the more slippery and treacherous slopes of Joe Killough Road.  As he traversed Junkyard Road he spied a cardboard box by the road this side of the little creek and bridge.  People are all too apt to take the road’s name to heart and toss out trash, so he didn’t think much about it until he saw a kitten’s head peep around.

He stopped briefly to check and sure enough, there appeared to be a whole litter of kittens scattered in the woods on either side.  The box had no food or water inside it.  Benny couldn’t…

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Invisible Illness Humor: Because Laugh Lines Are Better Than Tears~Post 6 for IIAW



Final post for Invisible Illness Awareness Week~I hope to leave you laughing :D

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

This is the final blog post of my week-long effort to support Invisible Illness Awareness Week.  And I thought I would try to leave you laughing.  My dad had a favorite saying: “A little laughter in life.” His own life was often not easy, and telling jokes and sharing funny stories was a way for him to lighten his load and brighten some of his pysche’s darker corners.

My daddy, Father's Day 2001, I believe, &quot;setting a spell&quot; outside Cracker Barrel. My daddy, Father’s Day 2001, I believe, “setting a spell” outside Cracker Barrel.

Another saying I heard growing up was “You gotta laugh sometimes just to keep from cryin,’ child.” Developing a sense of humor about everything you go through when you are battling a chronic invisible illness helps. It helps you retain your sanity, de-stress a little and  just simply feel better.  Here are some of my favorite memes and graphics that allow me to chuckle, giggle and simply laugh to keep from crying.  …

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Guilty, Guilty, Guilty. How an invisible illness can make you feel~Post 6 IIAW



Invisible illnesses can sure make you feel guilty. I know first hand! Blog post 6 in support of Invisible Illness Awareness Week.

Originally posted on Musings from a Mid-Century Modern Girl:

Yesterday, I said that the bad flare days–which can sometimes stretch into weeks, if not longer–can make it difficult for us to keep appointments, make long-term plans, keep up with our household chores, social/church/civic obligations and other things we used to do with relative ease.   There is life before the invisible illness and life after it—and yes, it is a game changer. I am quite sure it’s the reason why in most of my dreams, I am never older than my early 30s, reasonably strong and healthy and confident–the final years before my diagnosis of FMS/CFS.  I miss those days and I hate how guilty I feel that the “old” me isn’t around anymore. I know I am not alone in this.


When I was working full-time after my diagnosis, I always ended up using all my sick days and being forced to take additional days off without pay. Other times I worked but felt…

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