Tag Archives: Monty Python

Pollyanna and the Parrots of Doom

Lyda here.

First, a small digression. One of our spam comments was from  “totallyrealsitenotfak7e…” (I’m not going to put the whole address, in case it is some horrible computer virus and/or porn site. Y’all have to find those on your own.) and it read as if it was a continuation of a previous conversation.


A conversation with a stunned parrot whose been drinking all day and is concerned that I might acquire a fake payday loan.

Not that I am saying that a parrot is not capable of being concerned about the veracity of payday loans. They are very smart birds, I’ve heard. Nor am I saying that being stunned would affect that concern. How would I know? I’ve never stunned a parrot.

Although the only parrot I remember was one that whistled at me when I was eight and said “Look at that blonde!” Which totally freaked me out, because why would a parrot come on to blond eight-year-olds? That’s just weird.

Not that I’m saying that parrots do or do not experience weird attractions to girls. How would I know what a parrot finds attractive? And yes, I’m judging them.

I’m sure that the man who owned the bird taught it to say that, although hopefully not just to children.

However, after my grandma raked him over the coals for teaching his bird to say such an unseemly thing, I’m sure the man saw the error of his ways and spent the rest of his days teaching the parrot the Bible.

With the result that the parrot now whistles and says, “Look at that whale swallow Jonah.”

Although now that I think about it, this is not really an improvement.

Plus, that parrot would be pretty old by now. He might not be able to whistle any more.

Oh, and I should say that I do not approve of letting one’s parrot get drunk.

Nor do I approve of parrot stunning. That is not what stun guns are for, people.


What was I talking about?

Oh well. Here’s a link to Monty Python’s parrot sketch with a stunned parrot. Or is he?


Pollyanna and the Spaghetti Cake of Doom

Lyda here.

Actually, the spaghetti cake was yesterday. No, wait, two days ago. But math is hard!

This is a joke between the Sith Master and me, ever since I told him about the talking Barbie doll that said “math class is tough.”

Recently, we were texting about the time we would meet for our weekly dinner-and-possibly-a-movie-and-definitely-hours-of-talking. And he sent “Math is hard!” And I laughed so hard that my roommates came upstairs to see whether it was finally time to call the men to cart me away to the nice padded room.

It’s doubly funny because he is a math wiz. He often corrects my feeble attempts at figuring tips and such. He can even do that funny math that has letters instead of numbers, which I refuse to have anything to do with. A girl has to draw the line somewhere, even if it is with an equal sign.

But I digress…

We often quote Monty Python in our texts, i.e.: “How’s it going? What time are we meeting? What is the air speed of an unladen swallow?

I am so going to get him one of these shirts. Shh, don’t tell him. And maybe this mug, as I used to sing this song to him as a child. What child wouldn’t love to hear “he was bisected accidentally…” as he was drifting off to sleep. And maybe a mug for My Brother the Professor. It’s all his fault, and he knows it. And this one for Anna-Liza… or maybe that one. And this one for Irish Beauty…

And don’t I wish I could hear my mom laugh at this one? I may need it in her honor.

Oops, digressing again…

To return to the first sentence of this post, which was the original thought and has gotten lost amid the digressions…


Play drum! Play drum!

Also, apparently I can’t spell spaghetti.

One of my best things, digressing… uh-oh, here we go again!


I wonder why I’m hungry now…

When Pollyannas Collide…

From the dusty archives of our Drafts folder:

This is what happens when the Pollyannas met up on Facebook late one night… The colors let you know which Pollyanna is which. Also, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Not us. Our families, silly.

Anna-Liza:     Hey there – are you really on right now? Or is it just a Facebook illusion?

Lyda:              Yes, I’m on.

I went and started a cooking project and now I have to stay up ’til I’m done.

How much longer are you going to be up?

Hoping less than half an hour. I have something simmering – have to check it once in a while. Then I can pour it in a jar and let it cool and go to bed.

Not too much longer, then.  Hey, I graduated.

I saw! Congratulations!

It’s kind of weird. It felt like this huge thing before it happened, and hardly anyone has even acknowledged it. I thought the people at work would all sign a card or something.

Wow. Nothing?  Although it’s not totally surprising, I guess.


Then again, there’s that whole karma around getting validation from outside.  Bleh. 

People keep asking me “What are you going to do now?” and the truth is I have no idea. I’d like to do something completely different, but I’m not sure what.

I’m hoping that, now that the kids are in school again, life will be less crazy and I can indulge myself with a call to you once in awhile again.

And, in re: “boring job,” you *must* read “Radical Homemakers.”

That would be awesome! I miss our long talks. I saw your note [on Facebook] about “Radical Homemakers.” Sounds interesting.

It’s a quick, but sort of intense, read. I think it will weirdly fit in with your studies.

My son the Sith Master thinks I should be a teacher and teach English so kids will learn to love books and reading and writing, instead of learning to hate it.  I don’t know though.

I have to do some posts on the blog…

God, I am not even sure when the last time I posted was. Blogging is another thing I want to get back into.

And I’ve started making these cute little stitch markers that my knitting group is “test driving” for me. If they work well, I’m thinking of selling them on Etsy.

Me too. I need to post about graduating, for one, and check off a big thing off my Bucket list. I did do this.

To jump around a little, one of the big reasons we like living in our own house is that we can garden a lot more extensively. We want to do an “urban homestead” kind of thing with a lot of edible landscaping.

Stitch markers – cool! I haven’t knitted in so long. It’s finally cool today, so I can think about dusting the needles off. I’m thinking I’ll just make a scarf with yarn I have, and then give it away to someone…

Maybe even backyard chickens eventually.  A scarf’s a good way to get back into knitting.

“Urban homestead” – I like it. Edible landscaping is a terrific idea.

You know those books about women’s knitting or quilting groups? I swear our knitting group could inspire one of those.

There you go, something else to do in your copious free time. And hey, while we’re at it, we really should write a book together too.

We’re growing pole beans on our front porch railing, and we’ve been getting really tasty green beans.

[about writing the book together] Yep.

Something with lots of sex in it. I’m not having any right now, so at least I can live vicariously by writing about it.


I can’t write well about sex – it always comes out too serious.

Or just stupid.

“Mmmmmmmm .. Mmmm … Mmmmmmm … ” Didn’t we make fun of some book like that way back when?

I know – comes out serious, stupid, or insipid when I write about it. Maybe together we can keep it fun and funny.

 “RRRRRRrrrrrrr …. VVVVVVVVVv”

Sorry. Got carried away there.

You are cracking me up!  “And she arched her back and screamed like a lioness…”

Do lionesses scream, exactly?

I’ve always wondered…

The scream thing annoys me. How many women actually scream when they orgasm?

Probably not so many.

Well, mountain lions scream, or so they say. I haven’t heard if they scream during sex, though. On the nature shows, the lioness always just looks bored during sex.

Yeah, she does. Lions seem a lot like this one guy I dated…

[On “How many women really scream during sex?”]  Good question. Probably less than men pretend they do. But is that because the women are worried about someone hearing, or are they thinking, “I’d scream, but it would be stupid”?

Or it’s just not a natural response.

Moaning, gasping … “Mmmm”ing … seem more real.

OMG, I think we should do a whole chapter of the book comparing old lovers to animals from the nature channel.


Names or aliases? I think names could cause problems…

Yeah, moaning, gasping is more real. I think Playboy started the screaming rumor, and some women just play along. Probably most women don’t even talk except to say “yes yes more more” but really, what else do you need to say?

Definitely aliases. We might want to visit Texas again someday.

[On what else women need to say during sex]  “Stop that”

“Get off me”

“I told you not to do that”

Hopefully followed by “do this instead,” or “let me be on top now.”

Yeah, but I wonder if men hear it after “stop that”. It would be a turn-off to hear her say “I hate when you do that”… or maybe not, what the hell do I know?

I think we have a blog post here.

I don’t think I’d say that during the act…

Well, “stop” if something hurt or was really unpleasant.

At least one! Hey, let’s just turn it into a knitting / quilting / urbanhomemaking / sex blog.

Isn’t it that already? Well, maybe the urban home thingy not as much.

I keep having this image of two very proper people explicitly discussing sexual acts over the tea and crumpets. Sounds like a Monty Python skit.

Which is actually not a bad idea…  I mean, if you really need to give detailed feedback or suggest something complex, maybe it’s better to discuss away from bed.

The Radical Homemaker thing is about disengaging as much as possible from what the author calls the “extractive economy” and engaging in the creating of a “life-serving economy.” Backing off from consuming…

Yeah, I guess the urban home not so much, especially since I stopped writing about cleaning too.

And yes, discussing away from bed is probably best.

Wait; let’s go back to talking about sex.

Nothing like a serious discussion to kill the mood.

We should just copy and paste this chat to the blog.

True. Et voila!

And when discussing one’s partner’s technique, they might feel safer if they have their clothes on. Of course, the dinner table might not be the place either… not if there are knives on the table. Better to serve pasta…

Or gazpacho.

Yeah, hot soup would be a bad idea….

This one time, the bed collapsed. I thought that was pretty frickin’ hilarious. How can you not laugh when the damn bed collapses? The man in question, however, did not think it was funny. An important clue that this was not the guy for me.

So another chapter in the book = funny, embarrassing, weird moments in sex.

Hey, are you done cooking yet? And by that, I mean on the stove…

How could we not? I remember the bed collapsing story – still can’t believe he didn’t think it was funny. That happened in a production of Fiddler on the Roof I did makeup for – Tevye’s dream sequence. He ran and jumped into the bed, and it collapsed.

Yes, the jars are cooling now.

Oh wow. I bet everyone working the show still tells that story.

Cool. We can work on the post tomorrow. Or I should say “I can work on it tomorrow.” Since I’m not the one with two active kids at home…

Probably. “Tevye” is now a voice actor in CA. Works for Disney, done some good stuff.

And I’m babysitting AND Very Superior Husband is doing a weekend retreat up at the cabin.

I sometimes wonder if I’ll run into one of our theatrical classmates out here but hasn’t happened.

Speaking of sex… you could go jump in bed with your gorgeous husband now. But… don’t jump too hard.

And no I can’t – he’s at the cabin.

You see how I did that with the bed-collapsing reference? I’m so good.

Which is probably why I’m up late cooking.

[finally getting a clue] Oh. Well. He’s at the cabin and you aren’t?

[about the “I’m so good” thing] Yes! You are!

And he’s doing a retreat.

So you are herding the kidlets alone this weekend? Wish we could do it together. Damn I miss living in the same city as you. Stupid pointy mountains!

Pollyanna Apologizes

Lyda here.

I thought I’d already shared this with y’all.

7 Movies that put Insane Detail into Stuff You’ll Never Notice, and

7 Movies that put Insane Work into Details You Didn’t Notice

including :

  • hand-made personalized armor for every character in the Lord of the Rings triology (I did not notice this when I saw the movies),
  • hand-knitted outfits in the stop-motion animation movie Coraline (a movie I have not seen). Including socks. On knitting needles smaller than most nails. Still a knitting blog!
  • the Quidditch World Cup stuff in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (a movie I have seen many times – I did not notice the eggs)
  • the real paranormal research mentioned in Ghostbusters (a movie I have seen umpteen times – I did notice some of this)
  • the zombie easter eggs in Shaun of the Dead (a movie I have seen a zillion times, as y’all know – – without noticing these eggs).

“But Pollyanna,” I hear you cry, “What is an easter egg?”

I’m so glad you asked. An easter egg is a hidden secret, treasure, message, or (in video games) cheat. Check out these easter eggs in famous albums, including Monty Python’s Matching Tie & Handkerchief which had double tracks – either of which might have played when you put your needle on the record. Kids, “records” were what we bought back when we rode our dinosaurs to the store.

And of course, for the Sith Master, I have to include the video game easter eggs.

Want more eggs?

Of course, if all this is making your head spin, you could go for some of these instead.


Pollyanna Celebrates Twenty-Eleven

Lyda here. Hippy Gnu Ewe to all y’all!

First, I have to share this Chem Time Clock – a wonderful thing for the science geek in all of us (especially My Brother the Doctor who loves both clocks and chemistry).

And now for something completely different…

I got a great exercise from an email from Naomi of IttyBiz.com. You can get her emails too – just sign up for them.

One of my teachers used to give us a similar assignment every January. Here’s my version of the assignment (which I was reminded to do thanks to Naomi):

1)  Think of the three or five or ten best moments of 2010 for you personally. Yes, this is hard, isn’t it?

2)  Now look at what is underneath the good stuff. Is there something similar, something that connects them? Or a couple of things?

3)  Now, think of the same number of the worst moments from 2010 for you personally. Easier, yes?

4)  Now look at what is underneath the bad stuff. Is there something similar, something that connects them?

For me, my good moments were related to:  Deep Connection, Full Commitment, and Honoring my Self. Thanks to Naomi, these words are now on a sticky note on my computer, to help me remember that this is what I want.

I discovered that my bad moments were connected to not honoring my self (especially not speaking my truth and not taking care of myself), not keeping my commitments to myself or to others, and feeling disconnected. Hmm… Funny how that works.

I also found that I still have work to do on some familiar problem areas – I mean, growth opportunities. Specifically, money and self-care. I think these two things are part of honoring my self and keeping my commitments to myself as well as to others. So, once again, these are areas that I will be working on this year. Oh joy.

Here we go, into Ides of January…

Scary, kids. Feel free to hold hands.

Pollyanna Hitchhikes the Universe… again

Lyda here.

I’ve been re-reading the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” books again… I just finished the fourth book of the trilogy and was ready to head into the fifth when I realized that I seem to have lost my copy of it. Time to visit the bookstore… Probably fell through a hole in my bag when I got off that last spaceship…

And I’m also re-reading “Carry On, Jeeves“. And also “The Wisdom of Menopause” by Dr. Christiana Northrup.

Plus I talked to Anna-Liza into the wee hours last night. And I spent the day with the Sith Master today,

And those are my excuses for not having a real post today.

But I had to post to say happy birthday to My Brother The Doctor.

I love you. Know that many Monty Python jokes were quoted today in your honor.

Pollyanna versus the Newly Empty Nest

Lyda here.

The Resident Sith Master moved out today.

That’s right. This Sith Master is Resident no more. Yes, a Monty Python reference. What did you expect? But I digress…

Early this morning his dad came over, and they started loading things up. Putting the bed on top of the car was a big clue.

But I knew it was really happening when my son packed up his video games.

I left before they did, so I wouldn’t blubber all over him, and in front of my ex.

It’s been coming for two months. He’d already packed up his stuff. And they spent time last week painting his room at his dad’s house and got him a new desk from Ikea and generally prepared the space for full-time occupancy, instead of the occasional weekend.

And we have to be out of our apartment at the end of this week.

So I knew it was going to happen.

But I cried all the way to work.

Yes, he’s going to be fine – he’ll be safe and loved and happy, he’ll spend guy time with his dad, he’ll be with his dogs.

The crying is not about that.

Today it’s about me.

And how much I already miss him.


Excuse me, I need a Monty Python-meets-Star Trek clip.

Ah. Brought a wan smile to my lips.

Perhaps y’all can suggest some others that will sustain me in the packing-moving-and-missing-my-son days to come.

T-minus 3 days to my move and counting…