Night, y’all. Sweet dreams.
The storms have passed. Lots of rain in Greenville, Benny said, but here it was mostly thunder with a little of the wet stuff. Miss Callie is semi-reclining on my chest, her pristine white paws crossed very daintily. She is warm–very warm–her little sides rapidly heaving up and down; I am always telling her to slow down that breathing. I want her to live a nice long life so she mustn’t wear herself out.
Funny how I find certain things attractive in RA’s chaRActers that I wouldn’t typically be drawn to–Lucas’s tats and Guy’s greasy tangled mane, for example. And it’s not just in terms of appearance. You all know how I feel about Sir Guy. And I absolutely love him when he’s in his Super Alpha Dominating Mode.
Now, in Real Life, some fellow barking out orders to “beg,” “talk,” “fetch” and “flog her” would be behavior I would find unacceptable. And yet, when Guy does it, it sends a frisson of pleasure shooting through me. Those blazing eyes, the deep, gruff, commanding tones, the pointed finger–ahhh, I find it all exciting. Perhaps it is the idea of the things I could do to make him feel better? To soothe his anger and lessen his frustration? To tame the wild stallion?
Back again. Thanks for all your good wishes and for keeping up the comments whilst I was away for a bit. I finally managed to get close to six hours of sleep this morning. My back is still hurting, but none of the sudden, intense spasms experienced yesterday. I just feel–what was that expression my daddy used to use?–weak as tater water (Daddy was full of colorful expressions, some of which could not be repeated in mixed company).
Apparently in the midst of tossing and turning in a right old Lucas moment during my futile attempt at a nap yesterday, I somehow twisted my back, then proceeded to re-twist it whilst playing with Callie. After I almost fell walking through the den, Benny gently suggested I might want to lie down again. And so I did. 😉 The humidity is back up with a chance of rain and thunderstorms, which always plagues my fibromyalgia. Same ol’ same ol’ . . . and so I indulge in something that satisfies my need for something sweet.
I’ve been communing with Harry Kennedy this morning–with his images, at least–and with those of his cReAtor from his behind-the-scenes VoD interviews. Harry is such a sunny, funny, honey of a character, so endearing. And Richard does say Harry is the character most like him in real life. Which makes me wibble a bit just to think of it. *sigh*
There’s a reason why Harry is one of the anchor characters in my Sloth Fiction series. He’s the peacemaker, the voice of reason, the gentle yet strong soul who binds the group together. He seemed the perfect choice to deliver the inspirational speech from Shakespeare to the lads before they set out on the black ops mission to avenge Lucas. Harry, like my husband, never fails to make me feel better. To make me smile. To remind me there is still goodness and light in the world.
Seeing Richard having such a good time during the VoD rehearsals is a real pleasure. I love his big, genuine belly laughs and those geeky giggles we get now and again. I know he says he is “so NOT funny” but I think once again it is a case of selling himself a bit short. Yes, he’s primarily the straight man to Dawn French, but he definitely has comedy chops, too, and his own delightful sense of humor.