Monday, July 30, 2007

Nursie

Hi. It's Dolores.

You're gonna have to hear from my today because His Royal Shortness is still not up to writing. He wanted me to say thanks for all the thoughtful comments, which I had to read aloud, holding the print-out in one hoof while keeping the cold compress on his forehead with the other. He says he'll be back soon.

It's been like the last reel of an Alice Faye movie around here, let me tell you. We've had to administer sal volatile a couple of times, and by the way who the fuck has a ready supply of sal volatile in the medicine cabinet in 2007?

So to minimize the fainting spells we're keeping him in bed with the shades drawn. Harry managed to get all the Billie Holiday and Patsy Cline off his iPod, but it just means that instead we've heard the second act of Grey Gardens 2,683 times.

The final volume of Harry Potter shut him up for a couple hours, until he got to the very end and ripped up the last five pages into little bits and threw them out the window.

And he's writing poetry. On the other hand, he's switched from blank verse to sonnets and to me that spells improvement. (In his mood, I mean. Not in his poetry.) When he starts writing limericks we'll know he's on the way back.

Cripes, gotta go. He wants a rhyme for "rigormortis."

54 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh I had a feeling you might still be sulking. I hope Delores can snap you out of it. We miss you!! CS

Anonymous said...

Well this was fun, thanks. I had no idea of a real word rhyme so went to the great oracle, Google. Got to semper fortis which, as you would know but I didn't, supposedly translates to "always brave."

Now that fits. Outta bed with ya, the world does want you back in it.

Gerrie in MN

Anonymous said...

Rhyme for rigormortis - purple tortise.

Unknown said...

Delores, allow him another day or so of this then kick his butt off the fainting couch and get him moving. Sulking is only allowed for one week. Well a week and a half at the most.
My last sordid affair ended badly (long story, nevermind) and I sulked, cried, laid abed for a week. After this add another 3 days of calling all convents in the area to sign up. (sigh) no luck.
So... I do understand. But he doesnt need to be wallowing. Remind him that we love him and push his arse out of bed!!

Anonymous said...

Who could not love you.... and with the addition of such side kicks too!!! They truly do not deserve you!

Not as short as also rhymes with
rigormortis... so there.

it is a full moon, at least here, it is...

Anonymous said...

Completely off topic, but: Franklin, you musn't give up just now. Not now, when Broadway is all a twitter with the news that a musical version of "Brokeback Mountain" is in the works. No. Really. This is serious. They've already begun casting. To whom is Broadway going to turn for a chorus of singing dancing sheep? I think you can answer that for yourself. This is it kid! Your big break!

Anonymous said...

What I want to know is why Franklin tore up the last five pages of HP. Why? Of course, there may still be Panopticon readers not ready for spoilers. I'm curious though.

Anonymous said...

Isn't the Stitches Market next weekend, or the one after? That should do it.

knittingjuju said...

I hate to mention it but "Delores" and "rigormortis" have a sort of slanty internal rhyme going on.... oh! you should see the dirty word the identity verifier just asked me to type... too close to the bone...

Lisa said...

for heavens sake Delores, if he is not bleeding from his eyes or running a fever then kick him out of bed by Wednesday. He is a strong young man and to borrow more lyrics, "I will survive....". If I could, "it's raining men....."enough said!

Elizabeth said...

There once was a sheep named Dolores
Whose favorite dancer was Boris.
He danced all night through
Til his tootsies were blue.
But it wasn't enough for Dolores.

Anonymous said...

Franklin he lay on the couch; lovelorn and feeling the grouch, his nursie Deloris; said man don't ignore us; you'll end up with stiff rigormortis!

Litandlace said...

Hi Dolores,
I think the perfect rhyme would be: "aqua fortis" (acid used especially in the production of fertilizers and explosives and rocket fuels). Perhaps a little shooter of "aqua fortis" should be an invitation for Franklin to quit his bed. For sure, it's the best antidote to "rigormortis"!
By the way, please say a big thank you to Franklin for his message. It was very sweet of him to visit my new blog.
Johanne, a.k.a. Litandlace

christine (threedogknits) said...

Franklin, I've been there. Rather than write sonnets, I go the eat Ben & Jerry's/watch trashy moview over and over again route. May I recommend Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream? The sugar buzz alone will get you off the couch. Hang in there!

Anonymous said...

Delores, even though this is the first time I've commented I have read every post since the first, and feel like I've walked a bit of Franklin's journey with him thanks to his honest and earnest writing.

Let him have a few more days. Then, whip the covers off, open the window and remind him life rewards those who stick to their guns, honour themselves and refuse to become cynical.

Pink said...

Get up and stop wallowing, Franklin...Dolores is hogging the limelight, and you don't want to know what I saw here doing with the yarn...

Anonymous said...

Hello Delores, got to love any post that references Alice Faye. Hope you can get him to feel better. Try putting in The Gangs All Here. Nothing like Alice, Carmen Miranda and a Bubsy Berkeley dance number to lift a mood.

Anonymous said...

I recommend large quantities of dark chocolate (Franklin, at this point you need a lot of it. Eat it just until you feel like your veins might start buzzing. Don't go beyond that point), a lot of knitting (a dark color so the chocolate doesn't stain it), and massive quantities of cartoons. Pinky and the Brain, Bullwinkle, Bugs Bunny, whatever makes you laugh yourself silly. Watch for hours and hours and hours. The hell with the rest of the world.

Wired said...

Tawdry tortise?

Anonymous said...

HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HHUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS,HUGS, Everything will be OKAY. Tomorrow is another day. Be pro-active in your search,just stop picking the same ol'Lurch ;)

Lynn said...

There was a dear knitter named Franklin,
Whose social life needed a spanklin',
He concocted a plot,
To have all men shot,
And thereby staved off his very own rankling.

OK, that's the best I can do on short notice; I have a 3-moms, 4-babies baby shower on August 10th to knit for, and I'm panicking. Could you snap out of that funk long enough to help me out, Oh Baby-Knitter Extraordinaire?

Anonymous said...

I immediately thought of the following immortal phrase:

"in-your-shortis"

I know, it's not a word, but I couldn't help it--the visions, the visions! (Dolores, could you please get out of my head? It's strange enough in here. Thanks, hon. The tequila will be there as soon as I can get it through the modem...)

Anonymous said...

If you're okay with enjambment, you could totally rhyme "flickr" with "rigor." I mean, not everyone could? But YOU could totally get away with it.

No, I don't know why you'd want to use "flickr" in your sonnet. That's your business, not mine. (Wait, wha?)

Anonymous said...

Hi Franklin,

Yeah, shredding the last five pages of book 7 was the right reaction. I personally puked on the last five pages of my copy.

As you know, everything changes. When I feel bad, I can take comfort in that because I know it's true.

Meredith said...

Dolores, glad to hear that you and Harry are taking care of Franklin. Still, hiding in bed doesn't solve anything, so if he doesn't come out on his own soon, drag him out to face the world. Probably best to start gently - maybe yarn shopping? That's always cured more for me than hiding has.

Paper Tiger said...

The last 5 pages? Why not the 30 pages before it?

cedar said...

Maybe this is the notorious disease "shawl withdrawal" !!!!!!!!!! easier to cure than the dis ease you think you are suffering under...get ye some fibre.....

RuTemple said...

Didn't you always want to know some wag out there on the Intarwebs had created this?
http://wordr.net/rigor%20mortis/
I know I did.
They only got to such glitterings as semper fortis, martis, fortis, Curtis (I believe this is a stretch), dies Martis, fortis, and aqua fortis, all of which have been adequately covered already. Or 'tis
I who am in favor of tortoises on Flickr, and furniture where the maker places a tenon in a mortise. (Excersises on the reaming out of mortises left to the poet's fevered imagination).

Anonymous said...

Dolores, you're a saint!

Katy said...

A little fiber shopping is always good for the soul.

dpaste said...

Ahem.

"Rigormortis"

"Where his wart is"

My work is done.

You're welcome.

Carol said...

There once was a was a nurse named Delores, who could speedily muster a chorus
She took care of Franklin, with huge bouts of spanklins and changed him from weak to vigorsportis

Anonymous said...

Dolores, I suspect Harry didn't do a thorough job on that iPod. Probably left some kd lang, Depeche Mode and Leonard Cohen on there.

Just replace Franklin's iPod with one loaded with nothing but Ethel Merman. He'll be moving in no time.

Anonymous said...

...kind of a snort-hiss?

Anonymous said...

Hey Dolores! How about

Voldemort is
suffering from
rigormortis

Oh, wait, he hated the ending. Don't tell him about this one.

Hope Franklin feels better.

Madame Leiderhosen said...

Dolores, Darling:
Do you reckon a present might help Franklin see fit to join the living again? Might know where I can find Beautiful Franklin's wish list, hmmm? A little homage?
Thank you, my sweet.

Anonymous said...

I had the same plan for those last five pages. I'm glad someone did it.

Feel better, pumpkin! Keep the smelling salts and Absinthe handy, Dolores dear.

Jeanne said...

"Only your vim and vigor, Delores,
can save Franklin from his rigor mortis."

It'll get better! :-)

dale-harriet said...

OY VEY iz mere! You make me absolutely DYING to throw on me shawl and rush to your bedside with a Decent Bowl of my chicken soup with two or three matzoh balls! (Mine are light, all but float right outta the bowl.)

Blow your nose, take a deep, shuddering breath, splash cold water on your face....and remember that a LOT of us love you to pieces. So there.

Anonymous said...

Oh my Aidan now I have coffee all over my monitor. Franklin go shopping you will feel better. Romina from Malta :)

Mama Llama said...

Do tell! What made him rip up the last 5 pages of HP?

Sharon Rose said...

Hang in there, my sweet. I've been there (as have most of us!) but if you stick to your guns and high standards eventually you find the right mate. I'm so happy now that I didn't settle for someone who wasn't quite right. YOU DESERVE THE BEST - HOLD OUT FOR HIM!

Dr. Steph said...

Nothing witty to add. Just take good care of Franklin.

Anonymous said...

Dolores,

Thanks for your ministrations to our friend Franklin. See if you can't get a ball of cashmere and some size 6 needles in his hands.

A little chamomile tea, or perhaps a chai?

Give him a hug from me, Dolores. Tell him I wish I had a brother to fix him up with (but only if I'd be rewarded with a nice aran sweater).

Anonymous said...

I wanted to do the same with the last five pages of HP7. That epilogue seemed like it was written by a 5 year-old fanboy. She may as well have mentioned that they had 3 dogs and 5 chickens and 36 ponies like I did in my "what I want to be when I grow" up essay from kindergarten.

FiberQat said...

He probably ripped it out because he wanted to marry Ron.

He needs some good ole American cheesy entertainment. Get him Simpsonized. Look what it did to Mel. It gave him hair.

Anonymous said...

Dear Franklin, This malady that y ou are suffering now is a combination of rejection and completion of a very important work. The Christening-Shawl. It is such a work of time, creative genius,love for your family and future family. Instead of celebrating that with some one you can love, you got the opposite. I would have crumbled too. Take heart, my dear man. "There is a crack in everything, that is how the light gets in."
Hugs, Rita

mamagotcha said...

Hey, Franklin, read this: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19959323/ and you'll feel better. It's an interview with JKR, and it covers what SHOULD have been in the epilogue (like what our protaganists did with their education). The did more than just breed like bunnies!

I want a fainting couch.

Glenna C said...

I hope you feel better!

I am SO with you on ripping up that HP epilogue, though. Durned book would have been better off without it, i thought ;)

Anonymous said...

Yes, the last 5 pages of HP got me thinking about passing things on through generations, and family heritage, and stuff like that... which generally makes me sad that I don't have kids. (Am married, but hubby is about 17, emotionally speaking, and it just ain't gonna happen. He's a sweetie, but he can't discipline our dogs, let alone kids.)

But then I regain my sanity and realize that it's just not meant to be, and that I'm just gonna be the best damn aunt I can be and try to leave the world a better place regardless of whether the inheritors are my kids or someone else's.

As for living in a relationship -- well, yes, sometimes you have to stop looking. Or, sometimes you have to look at what all your exes had in common and DON'T DO THAT again. A good friend got married a few years ago after realizing that she kept falling for depressed, unemployed jazz musicians (so COOL and HIP, doncha know). So when she met someone nice who didn't fall into that category, she gave him more of a chance than she otherwise would have, and one thing led to another. You never know.

And I agree. Sometimes being less-than-perfect (physically speaking) DOES fend off the shallow, self-centered dweebs. (And sometimes it doesn't.) But the more comfortable you are with yourself, the less outward appearance matters.

evergreenknits said...

Oh, this post is making my heart hurt. I'm only halfway through Book 7 (my guy and I read it out loud to each other, so we only get through a few chapters each night), and now I feel like you've spoiled it!! Won't you please consider removing that line from your post so that you don't hurt the hearts and spoil the pleasure of other Book 7 readers too?

(p.s. in general I LOVE your blog - hope this doesn't sound mean, I'm just feeling very disappointed!)

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