Tropes

One advantage of having the bipolar bears under this roof is that they continue to educate me. We have many common interests which lend themselves to nearly instantaneous mutual comprehension. A family shorthand, if you will. And individual interests that enrich daily life.

Through Fourthborn I've become aware of the concept of tropes: literary or cinematographic symbols of a story arc. And in watching multiple movies recently, over multiple days, I've realized that one of my favorite tropes is that of girl/woman/ingenue with less than ideal partner who is suddenly presented with a potentially more satisfactory partner. Think Moonstruck or You've Got Mail or Genius or The Accidental Husband. I wonder if I would find these movies half so enjoyable had my second marriage been sustainable.

Another trope which gives me less amusement or satisfaction, now that I am happily remarried (if widowed) is guy cheats on or otherwise seriously disappoints his wife/girlfriend, who rebuilds her life, or its lesser variation guy cheats on his wife/girlfriend, who takes amusing revenge. Examples of the former: The Mirror Has Two Faces or Catch and Release.  Examples of the latter: First Wives Club or Gloria Gaynor's anthem I Will Survive.

Sleep is catching up with me again. I had an eight hour "nap" last night, and I have a long but wonderful day planned. Later, gators.

FirthFest

I am bingeing all of the Colin Firth movies and TV shows that are mom-appropriate, if Mom is Ms. Ravelled. Yesterday I made a spreadsheet of his oeuvres, then sorted them out by MPAA or TV rating, if one was available. Of the 90+ options that have been released, 36 are rated R; of those, the only one I would consider watching is The King's Speech. Another 10 are not rated. Two more are TV-MA, which I'm guessing is roughly equivalent to an R. At any rate, I'm not sure mature I am, most days.

I tried to rent another two movies to watch yesterday, and neither transaction went through. I don't know if that was purely technical issues or electronic stupors of thought.

I was craving real food today, so I took a package of Trader Joe's mini-ravioli and simmered them in chicken broth with a can of thoroughly smooshed white chicken. While that cooked, I nuked a package of mixed peas and carrots. It turned out really well, especially with a fat spoonful of sour cream stirred in. I need to go put the leftovers away, as the bipolar bears are napping.

Yesterday was all screwed up, time-wise. I went to bed about 1:00am, awoke two hours later, caught a catnap before taking us to the eye doctor (Fourthborn calls him Dr. Eye-Poky) to pick up two out of three new pairs of glasses, took a much longer nap mid-afternoon to early evening, watched four movies in the course of the day, knitted like a madwoman, and utterly forgot that I'd requested and been approved to work a couple of hours of overtime.

I slept somewhat better last night but opted for Zoom church anyway. Congested and coughing a little from my allergies, plus Mothers Day is never my favorite Sunday to attend. (The year that I divorced the children's father, I beat the daylights out of the Sabbath by taking the kids and me to the Ren-faire instead. Not my finest moment as a Christian, but still, one of my better memories with my kids.)

The leftovers need my attention, and then I think I will re-watch Pride & Prejudice while finishing the second baby sock.