therealmadblonde

[therealmadblonde]

All I need is a chance and a little confidence in me.

#looking for work #looking for work sucks

[therealmadblonde]

"Tennessee Rise" by The Tennessee Freedom Singers

#youtube #tennessee rise #gloria johnson

[therealmadblonde]

I'm Just John

I’m Just John*

A filk by Karen Ellery, 2024

Doesn’t seem to matter what I see.

“You don’t observe” says he,

A conductor of the light, only.

I have certain theories of my own;

They’ll remain unknown.

All these years, I write his down,

Those deductions of renown.

‘Cause I’m just John, always the one he leans upon.

It is my fate to cater to the great detective and my work to give.

I’m just John.

Where I’m in the dark, he sees the dawn.

What will it take for me to see the great heart as well as the mind so free?

I want to know what it’s like to see and solve the mystery.

Who done the crime?  I’d choose the clues to read their history.

Is my solution finally here or valedictory?

Whisper “Norbury.”

I could run a Johnathon!

Feels like sun, this Johnathon!

Number one, this Johnathon!

Sherlock’s done. It’s Johnathon!

I’m just John, anyone else would soon be gone

Because he’d show his vast ego and lack of tact and they’d leave hastily.

I’m just John,

But as his friend I soldier on.

What will it take for him to value pawky humour and my loyalty?

I’m just John (and I’m enough),

And I’m great at doctor stuff!

So hey, Holmes, I’m here. Yeah I’m just John!

My name’s John (or sometimes James--

My wife really knows my name!).

So hey, check my books out, yeah I’m just John.

Sherlock, I’m just John.

*To the tune of “I’m Just Ken” from The Barbie Movie

#dr john h watson #sherlock holmes #i'm just ken #barbie movie #filk

[therealmadblonde]

There have been times in my life when I have cried, BEGGING the universe for a break, a little kindness, some compassion. Right now I am so far beyond that… I think atheists need to have a phrase that is equivalent to “Jesus take the wheel,” where you just throw up your hands and say “ok, universe, THAT’S where we’re going? Well then, let’s get moving.” The pragmatism of desperation.

[therealmadblonde]

Happy third birthday to the Tea Brokers of Mincing Lane, the Tea Society for fans of Sherlock Holmes and the Sherlock Holmes Society for Tea Lovers! #MincingLaneTeaBrokers #TBMLThreeAndThriving

#tea brokers of mincing lane #three & thriving #birthday

[therealmadblonde]

David Marciano commenting on Dean Devlin’s FB post makes my fandom worlds collide in a very freaky way.

#due south #leverage #ray vecchio meet nate ford

[therealmadblonde]

As we go marching marching

Unnumbered women dead

Go crying through our singing

Their ancient call for bread.

Small art & light & beauty

Their trudging spirits knew.

Yes, it is bread we fight for

But we fight for roses too.

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[therealmadblonde]

#january 6 #01/06 #wassail #epiphany #sherlock holmes

[therealmadblonde]

Wake up the happiness.

#mistletoe #ascii art #yuletide #happy yule #yule

[therealmadblonde]

#leverage #nate ford #tim hutton #jim hutton #10 Lil Grifters Job #ellery queen #elf on the shelf

[therealmadblonde]

Thrice the Hungry Catte hath mewed

“Laggard Human, bringe me Foode!

Now that thou hast woke at laste,

Hasten thee to breake my faste!”

#medieval cattes #medieval cats #cat art #And the Cat said...

[therealmadblonde]

Help save a PhD?

Shared from Chelsea Volpano, FB 10/30/23

Hey Beach Combers, I had a somewhat odd request. I'm doing my PhD on coastal erosion at UW Madison and was collecting some data at Lions Den in Grafton with an RC Boat (pic). Unfortunately my controller stopped working when the boat was quite a ways offshore. Although the lake was flat, the offshore winds were pretty strong. Long story short, my little boat is now adrift. I'm hoping it comes ashore, but not sure where that would be. If you see a little orange catamaran PLEASE let me know! It would save my PhD if I got boat back!

Update 10/31/2023: You all are amazing for sharing my post. It made its way to someone at CBS 58 in Milwaukee and I did an interview today. They said it would air on the 4pm news cast and be available online.

Update 11/01/2023: You're still amazing. The boat is unfortunately still missing, but is most likely headed south (towards Milwaukee or Racine) based on currents and winds.

Update 11/02/2023: STILL amazing. The coast guard did some drift simulations, suggesting it may be south of Lions Den Gorge / Port Washington 5-10 miles.

#savemyphd #setadrift #findthelakecat

[therealmadblonde]

#you are loved. you’re doing ok & nobody is mad at you.

[therealmadblonde]

#SilverBells

it's that time of year again

there's no ' none ' option because if you don't like any of these songs this poll isn't for you. sorry

[therealmadblonde]

Hold my keyboard...

#sarah andersen #fanfic #Instagram

[therealmadblonde]

Requiescat in Pace, Jimmy. Never had the pleasure of seeing you perform live, but you’ve certainly been part of the soundtrack of my life.

A Buffett Blessing*

CHORUS:

May your ocean's far horizon

Stretch around you, free of storm;

May the sun that shines upon you

Keep you golden-tanned & warm;

May your rum & your tequila

From unnumbered bottles pour

& may you walk in Margaritaville's

White Sands forever more.

If you sail to Paris Friday

For a change of latitude,

Then come Monday may you still be fit

To go get drunk & screwed.

May you find your lost salt shaker

& chansons 'neath southern skies;

May no volcano nor earthquake

Shake cheeseburger paradise.

CHORUS

May your grapefruit all be juicy,

Your Honey do you right, not wrong,

& if you let a Gypsy loose

May he still leave your palace strong.

When one particular harbour calls you

From far Banana Republic climes

When Alabama's Starlight falls though

May you not miss it so badly this time.

(Bridge)

& may you always laugh

@ the coconut telegraph,

& may you have a good long run

You old son of a son of a gun!

When you're on the knees of your heart,

When the waters fill with fins,

May a sailor's sunny grin start

'Neath your moustache, pencil-thin.

With a tall boat drink beside you

As throughout the seas you roam

May your inner pirate guide you

To your island port & home.

CHORUS

*lyrics by K. Ellery, 4/02

#filk #jimmy buffett #margaritaville #one particular harbor

[therealmadblonde]

Restore the plaque honouring the place where Watson met Stamford.

#SaveCriterionPlaque #WhereWatsonMetStamford #Sherlock Holmes #Dr John H Watson #Young Stamford #Criterion Bar