Wanton symmetry
Reminiscent overtures
Flawless ecstasy
Month: July 2020
30 day movie challenge~ Exorcist
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/72808372/posts/13664
A movie/film that scared me was the Exorcist. I saw it at the drive-in with my date for the evening. He brought me back to the trailer where I resided alone. Every sound outside seemed intensified as I tried to sleep. I couldn’t/ didn’t sleep. The movie seemed to be on replay over and over because at the time I was personally questioning my own faith as many sixteen year olds do.
I thought the characters gave an exceptional performance especially Linda Blair as Regan. It was novel at the time to see everything through the protagonist’s eyes. To me it felt like we were even closer seeing it that way.
I didn’t know at the time,the movie was based on a novel by William Peter Blatty, who had in turn based his novel on a real-life exorcism in 1949 of a boy (‘Roland Doe’, about fourteen years old at the time) who allegedly was possessed of a demon. I wasn’t familiar with exorcisms until after I had seen the movie and then read the book. I was fascinated and terrified that it could happen. If you’re curious, this is a really good analysis of the movie.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Peter_Blatty
I find the music comforting now even though the movie upset me watching it. When I began writing about the darker times in my life this soundtrack was helpful for my muse.
Letter-c day 59
Do you ever think about the things you’re grateful for? I made a mental list this morning while lying in bed with my boys, Macavity and Yeatsie and my hubby. It’s not very often that Macavity lets Yeatise join us on the bed. He’s a stinker.
I’m grateful:
- for a house to clean because I have a place to live.
- for laundry to do because I have clothes to wear
- for dirty dishes because I had food to eat
- for the crumbs on the floor because we enjoyed our food together
- for toilets to clean because we’re blessed with indoor plumbing.
- for a phone because I can talk with my family and friends whenever.
- for the cat hair floating in the air because I have fur babies to snuggle.
- for aches and pains because I’m reminded I worked hard today.
- for the music that fills my world with memories, and joy.
- for today, because opportunity awaits. I’m walking a path of my own choosing and no one’s approval is needed.
Which reminds me of a song I hadn’t heard in some time. I was looking for Fabares’s song Picnic and this song followed after in the youtube feed. I chuckled because I too thought I’d sing and dance forever as I lived my life as I chose. Blissful ignorance.
Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And think of all the great things we would do
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And think of all the great things we would do
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I’d see you in the tavern
We’d smile at one another and we’d say
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I’d see you in the tavern
We’d smile at one another and we’d say
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Just tonight I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be
In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me
Nothing seemed the way it used to be
In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
la la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
la la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Through the door there came familiar laughter
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Gene Raskin
Those Were The Days- lyrics © T.R.O. Inc.
Then we get a reality check. Work takes up more time than there are hours on the clock especially in today’s world where so much is being done virtually. Employers want you working every breathing second. There’s no such thing as a 9-5 schedule. The only escape is too shut the electronics off but as soon as you turn them back on… the to-do list grows.
Authors Connection:
Last night in our Sunday night short story discussion about Dahl’s Parson’s Pleasure. The story reminded me of my grandfather Jonah. He disliked parsons immensely. As far as he was concerned religious men were evil, it didn’t matter what their faith as because they would steal every cent a man made. In Parson’s Pleasure the man dressed as a parson to get into people’s homes so he could see what furniture they owned because he sold antiques. He didn’t disclose that part. He conned them as cheaply as he could of their heirlooms. The con game backfired in the end because in the story he wove with the three man at the farmhouse about a buffet was that the only valuable part was the feet. He got them to accept his offer and was on his way to get his car. He was chuckling to himself about all the money he was going to make on this priceless heirloom. What he didn’t account for was the farmer’s helpfulness. The farmer decided to make it easier for him to transport the piece by cutting the legs off because that’s the section of the furniture the parson really valued. The rest he chopped into firewood so it would be easier for him to transport since the parson indicated the poor quality of the buffet meant it was better used for firewood. The con man got what he deserved.
My grandfather would have laughed his ass off reading this amusing story from 1958. We were talking about Dahl’s work being in Esquire and Playboy when I shared my experience with Playboy. ( I have it written in a word document just haven’t pieced it in my vignettes yet but I’ll give you a quick summation.)
My grandfather lived in a primitive camp in Vermont. His water came from a spring above the camp on the hill. He ran pvc pipe down to a trough in the kitchen where it filled continuously and drained into a sink. He had trout living in the trough to keep it clean of algae. He put a toilet inside for nighttime use only because it was a bit of a trek to the outhouse. There wasn’t running water so it involved filling a bucket to empty to clear the waste matter that went initially back into the ground until my father put a septic tank in for him. My grandfather complained that it was a waste of money because he always did his number two business at work everyday. Like I said it was a primitive existence.
In the summer, we ( my siblings and me) stayed with my grandfather. We always used the outhouse because Grandpa made it quite clear the inside facility was for nighttime use only. We swam everyday so bathing wasn’t a priority but when it was we heated water on a stove and curtained the kitchen off so we could do the essentials by the huge sink and trough.
My grandfather lived alone all of my life and had some peculiarities that initially, I didn’t notice. The summer I became aware of them was just before I turned ten. A lot had happened to me prior to going to stay with him in the summer that I’m not going into at this time.
My grandfather never painted his walls, they were covered from ceiling to floor with Playboy centerfolds in the four rooms that made his home. I was very aware of the women’s exposed naked bodies. When my grandfather had left for work I got out our coloring supplies and encouraged my siblings to help me dress all the naked women. We covered every exposed breast, butt or vagina. We’re were so proud of our decorative clothing.
My grandfather on the other hand was furious. He ripped the pictures off the wall, cursing up a storm. My siblings and I quickly disappeared to the tent where we slept at night with some snacks because it didn’t look like dinner was an option.
Needless to say, we stayed out of his sight as much as possible to avoid another outburst.
It was an uncomfortable month until my mother arrived at the end of August to take us back to Connecticut. Sadly, we were grounded for destroying our grandfather’s art collection.
Art in one person’s eye can be devastating to another. For me at 10 years old, all it signified was a girl’s body didn’t really belong to her. Everything was about making boys happy regardless of how humiliating and painful it was. I was cursed to be a girl.
Thankfully, when arrived the next summer there were only pictures hanging in his bedroom. My mother promised we wouldn’t enter his personal space.
Sadly, my grandfather wasn’t one of the people that would say they read Playboy for the stories from authors like Dahl, Oates, Kerouac, Atwood, Le Guin, Fleming and Bradbury. His interest was sheer exploitation of the women.
“The occupational hazard of being a Playboy Bunny is the aching facial muscles brought on by obligatory smiles.” ― The Female Eunuch
Culinary:
I’m going to enjoy something light for dinner this evening. We have some potato salad left and I think with that I’m going to toss a tossed salad together to go with it with some homemade biscuits. Hmm… rosemary, oregano and chives fresh picked added to some butter. Now, we’re talking., yummy.
Let’s add a couple more things to our cancer tool kit while we’re on the topic of food.
Lemons and limes are antimicrobial as well as being anti-inflammatory. I don’t know about you but I love drinking water with either slices of lemon or lime on a hot day. I happen to have both in my fridge.
“When life gives you lemons, say cool, what else you got?” ―
I think on that note I’m going to make myself a glass with lemon and read for awhile. I haven’t finished the exercises in Le Guin’s Steering the Craft and I need to refresh my mind and get them done. Write… write… and write some more.
In my world
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/27669916/posts/64166
Questions:
Where Do You Not Mind Waiting?
I could be left for hours in a garden. There’s nothing more satisfying physically or mentally than being in the moment with nature.I spend time in mine everyday, it’s a great way to enjoy my first coffee of the day while listening to the birds.
What Is In Your Fridge Right Now? (you’re not required to give a comprehensive list)
Veggies and more veggies, I’ve been picking kale, beet greens, peppers and zucchini this morning before the heat of the day. It’s going to be an excessively hot day. It was 81 degrees at 8:00 am and if the weather man is right by noon it will be 95 degrees. That’s rough on the plants in containers and in the ground.
If You Could Only Speak One Word Today, What Would It Be?
Smile. If only we all did because a smile makes all the difference in someone’s day. 🙂
Would You Rather Be Trapped In An Elevator Full Of Men With BO Or Three Soaked Dogs? (this is with the codicil that C-19 doesn’t exist)
Three wet dogs is more appealing to me. The men should know better. Personal hygiene and self awareness go hand in hand. I don’t expect animals to have that same awareness.
Laughing with a limerick :)
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/51828229/posts/21499
Political Humor©
We were terrified to see a fight
Nature offered a horrific sight
Vultures circling around
It was simply profound
Murder and dinner in broad daylight
I thought I posted last weeks limerick with the prompt glue but apparently I didn’t so here it is.
To Shop or Not©
oh what to do with old tacky glue
discoloring my favorite shoe
do I scrape it away
or hope it will decay
nah, it’s time to buy me something new
Pairs by choice
Pair
The prompt was to share pictures of the one word…pair. Debbie’s picture was two butterflies 🦋. Gorgeous.
on one word Sunday. Thank you Debbie 😃
Song Lyric Sunday, letter-c, day 58
https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2020/07/18/the-great-bloggers-bake-off/
Jim says, “This week we have the food and cooking and eating related prompts of Baking/Bread/Cake/Pie/Picnic and hopefully this will fit for everyone. ”
I read a few of the responses posted before mine, Cherry Pie, Bread Fan, I Like Pie, I like Cake, Someone Left the Cake Out in the Rain… all excellent choices. I decided to go with the feeling I remember when going on picnics, although I do discuss our favorite picnic foods. At my age, I’ve been on a quite a few. The best memories are with John, Chris, and Amanda, (my children) but I do have some special picnic date memories tucked away that reminded me of the song I chose by Fabares. Maybe in another post, I’ll discuss some of those memories.
Michele Ann Marie “Shelley” Fabares (born January 19, 1944) is an American actress and singer. In 1962 Fabares’ recording of “Johnny Angel” reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 which was on the self titled album Shelley and the song Picnic joined the collection of songs included.
On a picnic morning without a warning I looked at you and somehow I knew On a day for singing, My heart went winging A picnic grove was our rendezvous You and I in the sunshine We strolled the fields amd farms At the last light of evening, I held you in my arms So when days grow stormy And lonely for me I just recall picnic time and you.
written by George W. Duning
“Picnic Lyrics.” Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 19 Jul 2020. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/31093464/Shelley+Fabares>.
“Fabare’s teen-idol status came with her coming-of-age role as the ever-wholesome daughter “Mary Stone” on The Donna Reed Show (1958), a part she played for five seasons before embarking on a more grown-up film career. During the run of the classic sitcom, she and TV “brother” Paul Petersen grew so popular that they sprinted to adjoining pop singing celebrity, although both admitted that their vocal talents were limited. Shelley especially enjoyed a #1 Billboard hit with the breathy, sultry-edged “Johnny Angel”. The character of “Mary Stone” was gently phased out of the show as her character “left for college”.
By this time, Shelley had turned into quite a curvaceous stunner. Her acting mettle hardly tested, she managed to become part of the bikini-clad blonde set with top femme parts in such fun-and-frolic fare as Ride the Wild Surf (1964), Hold On! (1966), which was a vehicle for British singing sensation Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits, and three of Elvis Presley‘s less-acclaimed vehicles of the later 1960s: Girl Happy (1965), Spinout (1966) and Clambake (1967).
A serious Vietnam-era stream of consciousness began to pervade film audiences in the late 1960s and Shelley’s perky innocence that found so much favor during the Camelot years had lost its appeal. After a notoriously dry spell, she bounced back as the altruistic wife of a dying footballer “Brian Piccolo” in Brian’s Song (1971), opposite James Caan, and settled comfortably again on the small screen with bright co-star roles on the series The Brian Keith Show (1972), The Practice (1976), and Highcliffe Manor (1979). A more prickly character than usual, however, reared its head in the late-night soap spoof Forever Fernwood (1977), and this led to the equally malicious, vainglorious role of Bonnie Franklin‘s business competitor on the already-established hit sitcom One Day at a Time (1975). The show also featured her aunt Nanette Fabray as Franklin’s meddling mom. In the late 1980s, Shelley found a fleshier character as Craig T. Nelson‘s resourceful mate on Coach (1989), earning steady work for eight seasons and two Emmy nominations in the process. A return to film stardom, however, would eclipse her.” ~ https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001193/bio
As a pre-teen I watched all those bikini-clad movies with Elvis, Fabares, and Gidget. Did you know Sandra Dee, Sally Field, Cindy Carroll, and Deborah Walley each played Gidget. https://groovyhistory.com/the-many-faces-of-gidget
Dick Clark Five is where we tuned in to watch the new and upcoming musicians and the latest dance steps.
This song was shown on a Donna Reed episode while she was on the show before she moved over to the bikini clad movies. At the time, I thought she was so pretty.
Picnic memory from 40 years ago:
Amanda’s first picnic with us was in August, 1980 after I had the radical hysterectomy and before I was to begin the radiation/chemo treatment. Amanda was only two months old, Chris was three and John was five when my children’s father wanted to go up to Wyman Lake because it going to be a really hot day. (August in Maine is usually very warm, I never minded because our summers are so short.)
A little background about Wyman, it was a man-made lake on the Kennebec River in Bingham, Maine. There were houses along the river that were purchased then flooded after the construction began in Bingham, in 1928. It would be the largest dam in the eastern United States, promising far more power than Maine industries alone could consume. The lake was named after Walter Wyman, the electrical engineer who brought the project to its full capability.
The paper companies would use the river to float the logs down the river in carefully constructed channels built along the river. In 1973, the environmentalists finally won the battle to preserve the river’s ecology and forced the paper companies to haul wood by truck. After that bill passed, the towns created designated beach areas with picnic tables and restroom facilities. to better serve the communities. That’s how Wyman Lake became a popular family outing place.
Back to my picnic memory. Like every other picnic outing I would prepare either a potato or macaroni salad, barbecue chicken and make cookies for dessert the night before. I was exhausted but somehow I managed to get it done because there was no cooking allowed at the lake. Carry in, carry out is the norm for Maine’s water areas.
In the morning,we would toss everything into coolers, put the blankets, lawn chairs, a pop-up sunblocker, and the beach toys for the boys all into the car and off we’d go for the day. We arrived at Wyman at 10:00 in the morning so we would have the best location on the beach.
The cool part about Wyman was the shoreline, it’s shallow for quite a ways so the boys could play in the water without me having to worry. (That’s a left over from the log run days.) Amanda was too young to be in the water but she did seem to enjoy being on a blanket by the water while her brothers played and laughed. Maybe their joy was infectious because she stayed awake a lot on her first outing.
We had brought a small transistor radio with us and listened to oldies playing on the radio during our excursion together. The boys danced with me, and tried to sing along with their father and I. We slaughtered a lot of the songs but none of us cared. We were in the moment.
Why I’m reminded of that picnic in particular other than it being the first one for Amanda was because of her first physical interaction with her brother. Chris had broke a piece of his cookie off and offered it to Amanda. Her little fingers grasped his and his face lit up brighter than a harvest moon. I was relieved that Amanda was finally accepted by her brother after the initial rocky start. Neither one of the boys were happy about having a baby in the family, and worse it was a girl.
There’s more background to their resistance of having a sister but I don’t want to go into it today because it had a lot to do with their father. Today, I’m staying with the picnic memory and the joy of the day.
By the time we arrived back home, we had three very tired children who didn’t resist bedtime. This woman collapsed right after they did. The fresh air did wonders because Amanda slept through the night as well, so I was blessed a full night’s sleep.
We were able to enjoy a couple more picnic excursions that August before the letter-c intervened.
I’m feeling today with the temperatures going to be 100 degrees today a potato salad would be perfect, maybe on top of a bed of lettuce.
Death
I was looking through one of my folders on death poems, and I came across this gem, I wrote back in 2013. Sometimes, we just need to put our emotions out there. I chose an inanimate object to express how I felt. What’s your favorite way of letting your emotions go.
Demise of a Shoe©
Coated with murky, putrid crap
Black grime embedded toe cap
Frayed, broken eyelets, pieced laces
Tightly knotted barely held in places
The quarter dog- eared in the back
Tired leather, brittle, split, cracked
Tongue twisted out of shape, torn
Sadly abused when it was worn
The insole broken down to clumpy pieces
Heels unevenly worn to the side
Clearly issues with the owners stride
Soles with large holes worn thru
Smushed leather like an overcooked stew
Broken stitches more here then there
Oh, the woes of a life in despair.
letter-c day 57
This day began pleasant enough with my black coffee, Macavity and Queenie by Candice Carty- Williams. I finished the book with Macavity sprawled across my lap while I read. Then I joined the husband for blueberry muffins, honeydew and fresh blueberries while we played two games of cribbage once our window to eat opened. We typically only eat in an 8 hour window.
I wrote another stream of consciousness response to the prompt word, link. It was fun writing it on the Ipad with Macavity putting his paw on the screen disrupting my typing. He was in quite the playful mood before he conked out.
Book review:
The book is about a Jamaican woman living in the UK working for magazine company. Her white boyfriend broke up with her, and insisted she be the one to move. He made more money. Her relocation based on her finances wasn’t ideal but at least she wasn’t on the street. Her contacts on a dating app led to one night risky sex and multiple visits to a clinic to make sure she didn’t get something. Upon one visit, her doctor became concerned that she had been sexually assaulted because of the vaginal bruising and bite marks and suggested she seek help. Her self esteem was the real issue, she didn’t think she deserved better so now her personal and work life were escalating to self-destruct. Queenie’s job was at risk because a co-worker claimed she was stalking him when in fact it was the other way around. She was suspended and had to move back in with her grandparents. Now, she was at rock-bottom and the only light in that tunnel was a counselor named Janet. Janet was very helpful when Queenie needed it most. The ending wasn’t cookie cutter perfect but it did show her life evolving in the direction it needed for her to find happiness.
I could relate to the self-destructive behavior and hitting rock bottom. I’ve been there. I didn’t think I was deserving of love let alone being treated nice just like Queenie. When you’ve been told your whole life you’re nothing, it’s hard to see yourself otherwise. Thankfully, my present life isn’t in that place now or it wasn’t until my husband decided to open his mouth. Yeah, this post has now turned into a vent.
I don’t need more frustration or aggravation in my life because my hubby thinks I should have emails addy’s included on my phone for everyone in my contacts. WTF??? I don’t use my phone for emailing people. I don’t need to. I don’t want to be that connected to my phone. I get emails on my computer and that’s just where I want them to stay. So what does he say when I say I have no need to have them on my phone, that I’m just like his mother. I’m choosing to be intellectually and technologically incompetent. Ask me what I thinking… fuck you, dear! Yup, I’m pissed.
I could post Lily Allen’s song FUCK You but the lyrics address racism and hatred but he’s not either one of them. He’s just annoying. So instead, I’ve chosen Courtney Barnett’s I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch. I told you my music taste is all over the place. Eclectic and sometimes down right selective! Almost poetic here.
Lyrics
I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch
I hear you mutter under your breath
Put up or shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
I hear you mutter under your breath
Put up or shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch
D-did I stutter a little bit?
Sit down and shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
D-did I stutter a little bit?
Sit down and shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
I try my best at being patient
But I can’t only put up with so much shit
But I can’t only put up with so much shit
I’m not your mother, I’m not your bitch
I hear you mutter under your breath
Put up or shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
I hear you mutter under your breath
Put up or shut up, it’s all the same
It’s all the same, never change, never change
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Courtney Barnett
I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch lyrics © Third Side Music Inc
Dining tonight isn’t arsenic yet, though it could easily change.
There are three things a wise man should fear, a storm at sea, a night with no moon, and a woman’s anger.
I’m poaching tilapia and making a salad to go with the left over pasta and basil pesto. I picked the kale, lettuce, and swiss chard early this morning before the heat of the day. It doesn’t taste as good once it’s been overheated. By the looks of the next few day, my veggies are definitely going to be stressed with this heat spell. Looks like I’ll be watering every morning and night.
Once we’ve finished the tilapia off we have in the freezer I won’t be replacing it because everything I’ve read lately indicates farm raised fish is more dangerous for us than wild.
Culinary pharmacy:
Halibut is anti-inflammatory in addition to being loaded with omega 3 fatty acids but there’s conflicting information on its value. So this I’ll leave up to you.
Kale, we already talked about with cabbage. It’s anti-inflammatory.
Leeks like garlic and onions is anti-inflammatory and antibacterial.
“Humor is almost always anger with its make-up on.” ~Stephen King, Bag of Bones
Saturday stream of consciousness
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 18/2020
The word is link, my brain says it’s too early to think but the alternative could be put those hands in the kitchen sink. How many times do you have to go through this before you put on gloves. Roses have thorns. Just because you nurture them doesn’t mean you’re above their scorn.
Just do it. Cover your hands with a baking soda paste and wait. It’s not like you’re running a marathon today. All the thorns will loosen and maybe by then you might have an intelligent stream of consciousness response to link. I just need time to think of something to link but all that comes to mind are rhymes of a different time.
Link, think, when’s the last time you saw a mink? I’m not sure who was more startled you or the mink. It made you think of a mouse at first until the rest of its body appeared in your garden. You didn’t move and neither did it. He was doing an early evening snack raid. Guess he didn’t expect anyone to be there. But you were… sitting but not actually doing what you came out to do. You were mulling again.
And naturally your camera was inside the house, so no cool picture to link. Unlike today’s world where your camera is on your phone and attached to your hip but there’s no mink either. Just you trying to type with lots of thorns protruding because you are so damn stubborn to simply go make a mess over the kitchen sink.
Thank goodness for google, I found a mink. Now you see why I initially thought mouse. Look at that adorable little face. If only I could get the link to fit in this box
lyncrain 
