Tag Archives: vicar of dibley

Do Blondes Have More ‘Dumb?’ Inquiring minds want to know.


It’s been said that blondes have more fun. I like to think I’m a pretty fun kind of gal.

However,  it’s also often been said that they–we–aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.

On one hand, blondes have been seen over the years as sexy, desirable and glamourous. I can live with that.

Gentlemen,  author Anita Loos told us, prefer blondes (even if they marry those more serious-minded brunettes and redheads).

Brunettes picket the film "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes."

Brunettes picket the film “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.”

But we also have the reputation for lacking both common sense and academic intelligence. Hence the stereotype of the dumb, ditzy, daffy fair-haired female.

I discovered a while back that quite a few online friends who didn’t know what I looked like assumed I was a brunette. Some seemed almost shocked when they discovered I wasn’t.

OK,  thanks to L’Oreal, I help it along these days. Still, a blonde of one shade or another I’ve always been.

The reaction over my hair color startled me a little. Why were readers surprised to learn I wasn’t dark-haired? Could it be they had unconsciously bought into the classic dumb blonde stereotypes?

Brittany, the infamous (and hilarious) dumb blonde cheerleader on "Glee."

Heather Morris as Brittany, the infamous (and hilarious) dumb blonde cheerleader on “Glee.”

Why are the fair-haired seen as stupid?

While surfing online, I discovered a few theories.

Take a look back to the times of the ancient Greeks and Romans. They admired their fair-haired neighbours to the north. And so they (particularly prostitutes) bleached their hair, but without the safety precautions we have in place today.  Copious amounts of bleach rubbed into the scalp and inhaled could have had deleterious effects on one’s mental faculties. Could this be the origin of the “dumb” blonde?

Another theory takes us back to the days when the high-born protected their delicate skin while the peasant folk spent long days toiling in the fields, tanning their skin and lightening their hair beneath the hot sun. Fair hair (and tanned skin) thus became associated with the uneducated–“dumb”–lower classes.

There is also the story of a certain French courtesan, Rosalie Duthe, who was satirized in a 1775 play Les curiosities de la Foire for her habit of pausing a long time before speaking. Thus Duthe appeared not only stupid but literally “dumb,” as in mute.

And then along came the cinema, which allowed blondes to open their mouths and prove they were dim bulbs.

Think of iconic silver screen bombshells such as Jean Harlow and Marilyn Monroe and Monroe clones like Jayne Mansfield and Mamie Van Doren. From across the pond we had the voluptuous Diana Dors. Most of these ladies didn’t necessarily start out with fair hair but went the peroxide route to achieve sex symbol status. They were goddesses of the silver screen, but they weren’t exactly worshipped for their brains, if you know what I mean.

Jean Harlow, 1930s bombshell, who played the quintessential dumb blonde in the classic "Dinner at Eight."

Jean Harlow, 1930s bombshell, who played the quintessential dumb blonde in the classic “Dinner at Eight.”

The most iconic of the platinum blondes, the often imitated, but never duplicated Norma Jean Baker, better known as Marilyn Monroe.

The most iconic of the platinum blondes, the often imitated, but never duplicated Norma Jean Baker, better known as Marilyn Monroe.

Jane Mansfield, who poked fun at her voluptuous blonde image in "The Girl Can't Help It."

Jane Mansfield, who poked fun at her voluptuous blonde image in “The Girl Can’t Help It.”


Judy Holliday, the perennial dumb blonde in comedic roles in classics such as "Adam's Rib."

Judy Holliday, the perennial dumb blonde in comedic roles in classics such as “Adam’s Rib.”

A rather sweet and demure-looking young brunette Diana Dors.

A rather sweet and demure-looking young brunette Diana Dors.

Dors after receiving the full bombshell treatment.

Dors after receiving the full bombshell treatment.

And the dumb blonde continued to appear on-screen when television came into every living room. As a child, I remember seeing giggly, goofy Goldie Hawn as the dumb blonde on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In, and later, wide-eyed innocent Chrissy Snow on the popular sit-com Three’s Company.  And more recently, the vapid heiress Paris Hilton perpetuated the stereotype of the dumb blonde.

Goldie, the adorable dumb blonde as Bikini Girl on "Laugh-In."

Goldie, the adorable dumb blonde as Bikini Girl on “Laugh-In.”

Paris Hilton, who once pondered whether Wal-Mart only sold walls.

Paris Hilton, who once pondered whether Wal-Mart only sold walls.

Suzanne Somers, left, as dizzy blonde Chrissy Snow with castmates John Ritter and Joyce DeWitt.

Suzanne Somers, left, as dizzy blonde Chrissy Snow with castmates John Ritter and Joyce DeWitt.

One of my favorite dizzy blondes has to be the unforgettable Alice, the vicar’s sidekick as played by Emma Chambers on The Vicar of Dibley.  I’ve even written her into some of my fan fiction.  Yes, the daft, dizzy, dumb blonde image is alive and well here in the 21st century, seen in movies, television, cartoons, books and endless jokes, and even in  merchandising (and no, I don’t use Dumb Blonde hair products).  So I have laughed at, and with, certain “dumb blondes” over the years.  I’ve even poked fun at myself, saying from time to time, that I am having a “blonde moment.”

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Emma Chambers as Alice in "The Vicar of Dibley."

Emma Chambers as Alice in “The Vicar of Dibley.”




But I don’t truly think of myself as dumb. Scatter-brained and absent-minded at times, but not dumb.

And I guess others who didn’t know any better never thought I was either.

My blonde odyssey

As I said, I came into this word a blonde. OK, I was actually born bald. But the hair soon came.

baby pic in pink

I promise this is the one and only time I will foist full nudity (my own or others) on anyone’s delicate sensibilities. You can see the blonde hairs beginning to sprout on my infant head.

I was typecast in school productions and Christmas pageants due to a rather massive amount of blonde hair, playing Gretel and a Dutch immigrant and scads of angels complete with  tinsel-wrapped wire coat hanger halos and flowing white robes. Fair hair is also often equated with innocence and angelic qualities, it seems. OK, looks can be deceiving.


No one ever told me when I was child that my golden tresses somehow equated a less-than-stellar intelligence level. Of course, the fact I had to start wearing spectacles in elementary school, short-sighted from pouring over books night and day, seemingly contradicted the idea I might be a dumb blonde. Because kids who wear glasses are the smart ones, right? I mean, they always were in TV shows and movies and in books . . . and the thicker the glasses, the brainier the child. And mine just got thicker and thicker until I was liberated by contact lenses at 15.

My third grade school photo. The first of many pairs of glasses I would wear.

My third grade school photo. The first of many pairs of glasses I would wear.


Yet, the smart kids in the movies and cartoons always seemed to sport dark hair with their eyeglasses. Not blonde.  Unless, of course, they were diabolical little psychopaths like Rhoda in The Bad SeedOh, Rhoda didn’t wear glasses, but no one could accuse her of being stupid. A conniving murderess, yes. But not stupid.

Patty McCormick and Nancy Kelly as the evil little pig-tailed Rhoda and her mother in the 1956 film "The Bad Seed."

Patty McCormick and Nancy Kelly as the evil little pig-tailed Rhoda and her mother in the 1956 film “The Bad Seed.”

Note the long blonde braids and bangs (fringe). I was teased mercilessly for my resemblance to nasty little Rhoda. *sigh*

Note the long blonde braids and bangs (fringe). I was teased mercilessly for my resemblance to nasty little Rhoda. *sigh*

And so I seemed to be a contradiction. I was considered one of the smartest kids in my class and yet I was undeniably blonde from the top of my tow head to my eyelashes and the hairs on my arms and legs.  I was a quiet, somewhat serious bookworm. Was I actually a brunette soul beneath my blonde facade?

I went on to graduate second in my high school class and with honors from college. No one ever seemed to treat me like a dumb blonde. I did earn the nickname of Snow Queen in one of my art classes, but that was due to my coloring, not a frosty (or  Chrissy Snow-style dumb) demeanor.

My hair got darker with age and I highlighted it, until God started adding lots of touches of grey platinum blonde and the highlighting didn’t work anymore.  So I had to revert to overall hair color. Otherwise, I’d have had looked a bit like a blonde skunk.

Now it’s getting whiter and whiter , er, more and more platinum, so it’s hard for me to be much of anything but blonde, unless I want to look even older than I actually am. Or I want to have some seriously pale roots to constantly touch up after coloring my hair a darker shade. I can always don my wig if I feel a deep need to go to the dark side.

I do play a brunette every once in a while. Me in my Halloween costume a few years ago.

I do play a brunette every once in a while. Me in my Halloween costume a few years ago.

Of course, “God’s platinum blonde” is supposed to designate wisdom, isn’t it? Perhaps I am grower brighter with age . . .

And this week, we’ve learned an English teenager named Lauren Marbe has scored an IQ of 161.  Keep in mind an average IQ is generally thought to fall between 90 and 110.  Guess what color her hair is?


(Photo courtesy of Huffington Post)

Read more about Lauren http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/02/13/girl-iq-161-lauren-marbe_n_2676885.html

Seems her teachers knew she was bright from her schoolwork, but they never thought she was a genius–you know, the whole “dizzy blonde” thing. She’s into manicures, tanning and parties. Just goes to show you can be a bright girl and a girlie-girl (although I’d caution her about that tanning).

Of course, the truth is that there is no proven correlation between the color of your hair and intellect.  A study was done evaluating the academic aptitude of students internationally and the highest overall scores were in Finland. I do believe Finland has its fair share of fair-haired kiddies.

You’ve got to watch out for those stereotypes and buying into them concerning others or yourself. It helps to have parents and teachers who focus on what’s going on inside your head instead of on top of it. And who encourage you to develop your intellect and talents and not just your makeup application skills.  Otherwise, you could end up like the little girls on Toddlers & Tiaras.



Now THAT’S a scary thought.

Eupeptic Armitage: TAE Word for the Day



Eupeptic: (adjective) of good digestion; producting or relating to good digestion. Cheerfu, happyl; having a cheerful manner or disposition. Origin: from the Greek eupeptos

I unfortunately have acid reflux disease and have to take medication for it daily. Makes my tummy much happier, more eupeptic, you might say.

I try to be a eupeptic individual in the sense of how I conduct myself each day, to look at life seeing “the glass half full” and the positive side of things.

I think it’s safe to say that Harry Kennedy, that sunny-natured accountant with the sweetest smile that Richard brings to life in The Vicar of Dibley, is a man with a eupeptic nature.

And just think: Mr. A has said that the character most like him happens to be the delightfully eupeptic Harry Jasper Kennedy.  *sigh*



veautiful dayvod11


The good news is, my knees are better.  Hooray! The bad news, well . . .

After some research and probing, what I thought was a pulled muscle in my side now seems more likely to be a hairline fracture on the left upper rib cage. Since I have no health insurance (and I can tell you from past experience fractures and breaks of this type don’t always show up on X-rays anyway), I can’t say with absolute certainty. Then again, I could shell out money to the doc only to be told what I was told several years ago:

“Yeah, appears to be broken/fractured. Take some pain relievers, rest it and try using heat and a pillow.  Taping? No, taping/wrapping are not recommended anymore, good luck! Oh, and here’s my bill.” 😉

(OK, he didn’t actually hand me the bill then and there, but I did feel worse after I saw a list of the charges.)

Hey, I know it could be worse. And it’s not going to kill me, it’s just gonna continue to hurt a lot at times. The weather is about to turn cooler and wet for a few days, too.  This will not help.

Obviously, I need something–or someone–to take my mind off it all.

So I thought of the wonderful sunny-smiled, sweet-natured, funny, cheeky, hopeful romantic Harry Kennedy, one of the first RA ChaRActers I discovered after meeting him as Sir Guy of Gisborne in Robin Hood.

Harry, an asylum for the spirit, a balm for the blues; Harry, the frown-flipping antidote to a bad day.

And so I wrote this ditty, to be sung to the tune of “We Need a Little Christmas” from the musical “Mame.”

We Need a Little Harry Right Now

Haul-out-the screencaps!

the pain is diggin’ in — I quic-kly need a fix!

Pop-in-that DVD–

it’s the anti–dote to what is ailin’ me–

Now . . . .



I need some sunny Harry right this very minute

A smile that simply dazzles, so much sweetness in it

Yes, I need a little Harry, right this very minute

I need some Mr. Kenn–e-dy!

I–need–the Jumpered One

all co–zy, striped and ve–ry cud-dl-y

tall, lean and lan-ky

with a gorgeous smile that is just–for–me NOW

Yes, I need some gorgeous Harry, right this very minute

A heart that is so lovely, so much goodness in it

Oh, I need a little Harry, right this very minute

I need some Mr. Kennedy!



I need a little Harry right now.

Harry’s Got That Gemutlichkeit: TAE Word for the Day


Gemutlichkeit: (noun) warm friendliness; coziness, comfortableness.  The word comes from German word gemutlich (comfortable, cozy). Earliest documented use: 1892.

If “troth” made me think of John Standring, this word made me think of a certain tall, lanky handsome stranger with a penchant for striped jumpers.


I think of the warmth of that dazzling smile with which he greets the vicar and Alice on their visit to Sleepy Cottage; of his sweet and sunny personality and how good it must be to cuddle with someone like Mr. Kennedy.

Harry exudes gemutlichkeit.

I can easily imagine a cold winter’s eve, curling up beneath a quilt on a comfy sofa in front of a cozy fire, head resting on one broad and reliable jumper-clad shoulder,  listening to Harry read aloud in that delicious chocolate voice . . .



I hope you find some gemutlichkeit in your life this holiday season, my friends.

Sunday night at the beach


We’ve had a fabulous meal, courtesy of my fabulous sister–juicy filet mignons from Omaha Steaks, so tender they melted in your mouth, garlic toast, spinach salad and baked potatoes. I was too stuffed for dessert, but the fellows enjoyed apple pie a la mode.

Now we are sharing one of our favorite films (and one of Richard’s, too) with my sis and BIL, the delightful Pixar production Up on our PS3 that Benny brought from home.

The house that is about to be taken on a journey via balloons for the adventure of a lifetime in UP.

 Sis took a break to take Miss Hannah Dog for her walkies, so Benny watched some 50s monster movie with a stop-motion creature from Venus wreaking havoc in Italy. BIL suggested the film was “unrealistic.” Gee, ya think?? Now back to the fun of Up.  I like to imagine RA guffawing at some of the most amusing moments . . .

I hope you all have had a pleasant weekend and a good Monday to come. Stay safe and well, everyone.

Ladywriter and the Unexpected Guests: Part 1


Mr. LW had departed for work and all was quiet chez Ladywriter.

She was still snug in bed after a restless night, fully expecting a calm, peaceful, perhaps even slightly dull day to mark her 52 years on earth.

But that’s not what happened.

She awoke to find herself looking up into a pair of kohl-lined eyes of azure blue.

Even in her short-sightedness, she could recognize those peepers anywhere. He was also leaning down over her, his particular musky, spicy, ultra-masculine scent filling her nostrils.

Not an altogether unpleasant way to wake up.

“Awww. So you are awake, my lady,” the dark knight rumbled.

“Sir—Guy, what are you doing here this early?” LW said drowsily, rubbing her eyes and reaching for her glasses.

He certainly looked as if he might be up to something, she thought. And a tad nervous, too?

Sir Guy tilted his head and flashed those dazzling white teeth—really, was it fair for someone from the bloody Middle Ages to have a toothpaste commercial smile?—and took her hand. “I wanted to be the first ChaRActer to wish you a happy birthday, dear LW.”

He paused, licking his lips as he expelled a breath.

“I—have a surprise for you. Lady Leigh helped me with it.”

What had Leigh come up with?

Ladywriter raked a hand through her hair, wishing for a brush. And some lippie. Oh, well, Sir Guy had seen her plenty of times before in a less than glamorous state.

He still loved her anyway, the big lug. And she, of course, adored him.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, my dearest Dark Knight.”

Sir Guy held up one elegant index finger. “Just one moment.”

Striding over to the computer hutch, he began to punch keys on the desktop.

Suddenly, music poured out of the external speakers.

Ladywriter’s eyes widened when she recognized the tune.  Was the Hot Velvet Henchman going to serenade her?

It seemed that he was. Sir Guy cleared that lovely, long column of white throat and opened his mouth–

Blam! Blam! Blam! It sounded as if someone was trying to batter down the front door.

Sir Guy, a rather ferocious frown crossing his face, cut off the music and stomped one large foot. “God’s tears! Who can that be?”

Ladywriter shrugged. “I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone.” She sighed. “Since not everyone can actually see you, I suppose I’d best answer the door.”

Blam! Blam! Blam!

“Good thing I wore shorts and a tee to bed, I suppose. Otherwise, our visitor would probably knock down the door before I could even get dressed.” Ladywriter grumbled as she padded into the living room.

“Hang on, hang on, I’m coming!”

She took a quick peek through the blinds of the front windows before opening the door and gasped.

“Happy birthday, Ladywriter!” A chorus of male voices greeted her.

Ladywriter clapped her hands in delight, then held open the storm door and waved her visitors inside. “What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting all of you–”

A jumper-clad fellow sporting a sunny smile leaned down to plant a hearty kiss on her cheek. “We couldn’t miss your birthday, dear LW. The missus sends her best.” He held up a round plastic container. “And I brought you a cake!” He waggled his brows. “Lots of layers and lots of chocolate.”

Ladywriter couldn’t resist pinching Harry Kennedy’s cheek. “Sounds delicious. As are you.  You’re a regular dose of sunshine, you know.”

Harry blushed in a most attractive way, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. “Well, there you go . . .”

“Oi, budge over, Harry, give us some room,” laughed another visitor, impressive biceps bulging beneath his olive tee-shirt as he placed the bag he was carrying on the floor. “I want to give LW a nice bear hug for her birthday.”

Soon Ladywriter was enveloped in John Porter’s strong arms. “Happy birthday, luv. My family sends you their love, too,” he murmured in her ear.

“It’s wonderful to see you, John. Just wonderful.”

Ladywriter sighed as she rested her head against that muscular chest. Wrapped in a John Porter embrace was a good place to be. And whilst he might no longer be on active duty, he was still most definitely fit.

“Give the rest of us a chance, will you, Portah?”

Ladywriter stepped back and looked up into a pair of heavenly blue eyes smiling down at her. “Lucas—you are looking so well, too. You all look just—great.

Lucas bent down and kissed her on the cheek, gently stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “So do you.”

“Liar,” said LW with a wry shake of her head. “But I will take the compliment, nonetheless.”

She glanced over Lucas’s shoulder at the lanky figure in the jaunty beret and blue smock standing behind him. It was Lucas’s rather famous art instructor.

“And bonjour to you, Monsieur!”

Monet bowed and took her hand. “So delighted to be here on the occasion of your special day, Madame.” His address might be formal, but there was a teasing glint in those incandescent blue eyes.

Monet held up a basket. “I brought some fruit, crusty bread, cheese and le vin.

Ladywriter laughed. “How very French of you, mon ami.”

Mais oui, Madame.” Monet gave her one of his infectious smiles.

Lucas held up a large shopping bag. “And I’ve got the decorations.”

Ladywriter raised a quizzical brow. “Decorations?”

Harry grinned. “Of course. Ladywriter, this is your birthday bash!!”

“And we are taking care of everything,” Lucas added.

Porter grinned. “And I’ve got the champers and some sort of fancy—what do you call ‘em?—hors d’oeuvres that Layla prepared.”

“Eh-hmmmm.” Someone was clearing his throat. All eyes turned to see Sir Guy standing there, arms folded across his broad chest, eyes narrowed.

“Pray, why did no one apprise me of these plans? I was just preparing to present my lady with her special birthday gift.”

Porter grinned. “Well, if it isn’t the Medieval Menace himself.” He could not quite resist getting a dig in. “Maybe we thought you couldn’t keep a secret.”

The Dark Knight’s nostrils flared as he thrust out his stubbled chin. “That is simply NOT true–”

Harry raised a hand. “Now, now, Sir Guy, the sergeant is just teasing you, of course.  Actually, I believe you were, perhaps– indisposed—with one of your many lady friends whilst we were organizing our plans?”

Sir Guy’s bristling stance relaxed a bit as his mouth curled into a knowing smirk. “Ah, yes. That is a definite possibility.”

Porter snorted.  Guy glared. Ladywriter shot both a warning glance.  “Let’s all try to get along, boys, it is my birthday, after all.”

Harry nodded. “That’s right, lads, let’s all pull together and be extra kind to one another. Now, LW, you just sit back and relax and we shall take care of everything–”

Blam! Blam! Blam!

“Were—we expecting anyone else?” Ladywriter queried.

The ChaRActers all looked at one another, shrugging and shaking their heads.

This time, Harry peeked through the blinds.

“Well, what do you reckon . . .”

(to be continued)

Armitage Angel Faces


The man is beautiful, obviously. But there  are times when he’s been–angelic looking. Even if the character is a rotter, he can still look like he’s just dropped in from the clouds above with those heavenly blue eyes and the sweetness of that smile. He really does take your breath away. Just a few examples of Armitage’s angel faces.

Black Sky & Birthday Preparations


OK, we now know the film Richard is currently filming will be called Black Sky.  Very ominous sounding, which is suitable for a film about a tornado and its terrible aftermath.  Less ominous sounding (and much more festive) is the fact Richard will be celebrating the big Four-One right here in the good ol’ USA in just a couple of days. Word on the street is the ChaRActers are already gearing up for the big celebration . . .

If you haven’t been to iwanttobeapinup.wordpress.com and participated in the birthday celebration countdown by AgzyM and Gisbornesboy, you’ve still got time to throw your name in the pot by answering the question of the day for a chance to win an amazing tote bag featuring Gisby’s own Little RA character cartoons.  Congrats to all the winners thus far!  And I have an RA birthday surprise or two for y’all of my own . . . 😉

Storms & Smiles on a Sunday


It was a dark and stormy night . . . Oh, I know it’s a horrible old cliche, but that’s the way it was.  Lashing rain, jagged bolts of lightning streaking the sky, loud claps of thunder, the whole nine yards.  Not particularly conducive to rest even if you don’t have FMS or arthritis.

My cats normally don’t really react to inclement weather, but Callie was perturbed by those bright flashes in the night sky. I’m not all that keen on them, either.  We’ve lost a satellite receiver, our oven element and an integrated phone/answering machine to lightning strikes over the years (the cord on the latter was actually melted into the machine).

Happily, no nearby strikes last night and we didn’t even lose power for more than a few brief seconds. More showers and thunderstorms are likely today . . .  I fear I may need a nap later on. I’ve been working on the novel some more this morning, watching TCM, reading through lots of emails, lots to which I need to reply.   It’s a gloomy day out there–I am thinking I need some Harry/RA sunshine. Maybe you do, too.

Sunny Saturday with Harry & Gerri


As I have said before, who in the world doesn’t love Harry Kennedy? There’s pure sunshine in that smile. He’s sweet, he’s a cutie pie (I’d want to pinch those cheeks just as Trudy did!) and he’s downright adorable, this clever accountant who loves a good read and knows a good woman when he sees her. 

Harry is cuddly and sexy wrapped up in one tall, lanky, floppy-haired, jumper-clad ChaRActer. And he and Gerri make one lovely and lovable couple. So, Dawn French wanted someone gorgeous for the role? I think Richard Armitage was surely made to order for the part.  And VoD and Harry offer us that rarity in RA’s career–a happy ending for his ChaRActer.

Rainy days and Mondays . . . and Richard


No need to talk it out, we know what it’s all about  . . . rainy days and Mondays always get me down . . . funny but it seems it’s the only thing to do, run and find the one who loves you . . .

I used to listen to lots of Karen Carpenter. She had such a rich, mellow, expressive voice that wasn’t quite like anyone else’s. Karen sang some upbeat pop tunes such as “Top of the World,” but it’s the melancholy tunes that I seem to sing in my head  more often than the happier ones. Karen can make you cry, but it’s a cathartic flow of tears, a satisfying sort of melancholy.

I wonder if Mr. Armitage is a fan? He’s a bit too young to remember the Carpenters in their heyday, but then I am a fan of music and musicians that lived and died before I was even born. You like what speaks to you, whether it’s current or from decades or centuries ago.

This one was used in a lot of weddings back in the day, with its talk of “white lace and promises . . . so much of life ahead, we start out walking and learn to run . . . we’ve only just begun . . .”

I think this calls for a little John and Margaret. And Harry and Gerri. May your Monday be a good one and may any cloudbursts not rain on your parade.

Sunday forecast: Sunny & Sweet courtesy of Harry K.









There was a great commotion from our dogs last night so Benny stepped out to see what was up. He could hear a distinctive rattling sound coming from the yard. He came in, retrieved one of the pistols, the big flashlight and went out to kill Mr. Rattlesnake. Which, I am happy to say, he did.


I think I’ve told you all before that my dad was bitten by a rattler when I was a child and I remember all too well how frightening that was. I have a deep-seated fear of snakes and I am SOOOO thankful last night’s unwelcome visitor didn’t get any of us–canine or human.  Believe you me, I will keep my eyes and ears open when I am outside.


Anyway, I haven’t slept again and really need to try to get some shut-eye so I can make that trip later to pick up supplies.  Enjoy the world’s most adorable and gorgeous accountant in the meantime . . . because Harry always delivers the sunshine.

Mr. Sunshine: the delightful Harry Jasper Kennedy


And then there’s Harry Kennedy, very possibly the world’s most adorable and sexy accountant. Tall, lanky Harry with his floppy hair, his cozy jumpers, those little reading glasses and stacks and stacks of books–he can’t get enough of ’em. A little shy and yet a bit flirtatious, too, with a smile that transforms the darkest day into a sunny one, Harry is surely Richard’s most genial character. He loves his vicar and he’s determined to make her his own, in spite of the extremely eccentric denizens of Dibley. Sum up Harry in one word? Adorable.