Of Butterflies and Legends

You know, I had a lovely day today. Natasha, John, Rachel and I went up to Ashton Memorial and Williamson Park after dining at Wetherspoon's in town. We had 99s with flakes before John and me went to the Butterfly House.

Aside from a fab butterfly house, a bird place where you're walking through as the birds are flying around you- we got divebombed by a bitchy cockateel before a dove whacked John on the head with its wing. From there through a little reptile house, through to 'Mini Beasts' which was locusts, stick insects and other little creatures. Through then to chipmunks and rabbits before the butterfly house itself. Fabulous- tons and tons of butterflies of all sorts racing around this tropical paradise. John ended up with two monarch butterflies and one big-arse owl butterfly attached to his shirt, at which point he proclaimed that he was the Butterfly King and could do anything.

Then we purchased a bottle of bubbles and a football and the four of us proceeded to piss about in the park playing football and eventually descending into Piggy in the Middle. It's really lovely up there and it's just a shame I've only gone there for the first time now (a week before I leave for good).

Then I came back and pissed about on the computer (something new and different for me). Then I had a nap, being v. v. tired from my playing about.

Then I come back on the computer now to find out that one of my screen goddesses is dead. I could sit here and tell you how wonderful Katharine Hepburn was. I can tell you that of the two Great Movie Hepburns, Katharine (Not Kate, I'm reliably informed!) was by far IMO superior to Audrey. I could tell you that I've seen The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen (Heaven on earth, man: Bogart & Hepburn on the same Huston-directed screen!) and On Golden Pond so many times I know a lot of the words. I could tell you that I only bothered watching Love Affair to see her, not Warren or Annette. I could tell you much more, but why the Hell should I bother when her body of work speaks for itself?

Two things about Katharine: The people who live in the town she lived (and died) in were masters of misdirection towards reporters and photographers. They made sure she was left well alone. I think it takes a great person to inspire such dedication.

Secondly and finally: Miss Hepburn, I hope Spence is there to greet you at the gates.

I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy.
Tracy Lord, The Philadelphia Story.

Of Butterflies and Legends

You know, I had a lovely day today. Natasha, John, Rachel and I went up to Ashton Memorial and Williamson Park after dining at Wetherspoon's in town. We had 99s with flakes before John and me went to the Butterfly House.

Aside from a fab butterfly house, a bird place where you're walking through as the birds are flying around you- we got divebombed by a bitchy cockateel before a dove whacked John on the head with its wing. From there through a little reptile house, through to 'Mini Beasts' which was locusts, stick insects and other little creatures. Through then to chipmunks and rabbits before the butterfly house itself. Fabulous- tons and tons of butterflies of all sorts racing around this tropical paradise. John ended up with two monarch butterflies and one big-arse owl butterfly attached to his shirt, at which point he proclaimed that he was the Butterfly King and could do anything.

Then we purchased a bottle of bubbles and a football and the four of us proceeded to piss about in the park playing football and eventually descending into Piggy in the Middle. It's really lovely up there and it's just a shame I've only gone there for the first time now (a week before I leave for good).

Then I came back and pissed about on the computer (something new and different for me). Then I had a nap, being v. v. tired from my playing about.

Then I come back on the computer now to find out that one of my screen goddesses is dead. I could sit here and tell you how wonderful Katharine Hepburn was. I can tell you that of the two Great Movie Hepburns, Katharine (Not Kate, I'm reliably informed!) was by far IMO superior to Audrey. I could tell you that I've seen The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen (Heaven on earth, man: Bogart & Hepburn on the same Huston-directed screen!) and On Golden Pond so many times I know a lot of the words. I could tell you that I only bothered watching Love Affair to see her, not Warren or Annette. I could tell you much more, but why the Hell should I bother when her body of work speaks for itself?

Two things about Katharine: The people who live in the town she lived (and died) in were masters of misdirection towards reporters and photographers. They made sure she was left well alone. I think it takes a great person to inspire such dedication.

Secondly and finally: Miss Hepburn, I hope Spence is there to greet you at the gates.

I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy.
Tracy Lord, The Philadelphia Story.