Monkey On My Back




I have professed my love for the BBC show “Call the Midwife” in a previous post. My friend Betro turned me on to that show and I ought to buy her a cookie for it. Based on real stories from the memoirs of Jennifer Worth, the show originally ran for 3 seasons. As I understand it, that was supposed to be it. But the ratings were phenomenal and the public were clamoring for more. So the Beeb commissioned another season, and the producer(s) obliged.


I’ve been watching each week’s episode with intense adoration. And while I do feel there’s a slight difference in the stories from the original source material, I’m still a fan.


Cut to yesterday. I had the show on in the background, trying to get some things done while keeping up with my story. Y’all – before I knew what was happening, I was sobbing (sobbing!) and had to sit myself down. Damn those midwives and nuns of Nonnatus House! They got me again. Hard.


On a tangential note – I’m thinking that if I ever get a dog I’m gonna name it Chummy. Thoughts?





I am new to binge-watching TV. Mister introduced me to this when the second season of “House of Cards” was released all at once. But that was my only experience with binge-watching.


Until last night. I had lunch with Betro and she told me about a BBC show, “Call the Midwife.” Mister was out at a dinner last night, so I thought I’d give the show a chance. By the time he walked through the door, I was finishing up episode 4 of the first season. I am like a catfish on the bayou – hooked.


I’ll likely tone down my watching going forward, and that’s okay. As “Call the Midwife” is a British show, there will probably be only a few seasons to get through. That’s okay, too. But I sure did enjoy mainlining those 4 episodes last night. Hats off to Betro for sharing.




I’d been waiting to watch it. My friend Betro was waiting, too, so that we could watch together: the Kate Bush documentary that recently aired on BBC. A buddy had sent a copy from the UK and Betro and I wanted to make it an occasion.


When we finally sat down together, our focus on the television screen, neither of us had any idea what to expect. Betro pressed play…


Do you have heroes? Do you have people whose talents you admire, if not downright envy? Is there someone in the world you look up to? Someone you don’t actually know, yet you’re grateful for?


Kate Bush is one such person for me. And while I have her entire musical catalog in my possession, I can’t say I’ve ever known much about her. Her personal life has never been a topic of conversation in my little world. And I’m not so stalkerish as to wonder where she lives or how she goes about her day-to-day existence. All I’ve cared about is the music. Her songs have provided refuge and entertainment. I’ve listened to her music when I’ve felt alone and when I’ve wanted to dance. I’ve depended on her talents for inspiration and comfort. Again and again, her music has been there for me.


When the documentary ended, I covered my face with my hands, to enclose my tears. I finally looked up and saw Betro doing the same. It seemed we were both profoundly affected by the Kate Bush doc. Our ensuing conversation covered not only our feelings about the documentary, but also our personal histories with the music of Kate Bush. We talked about how we perceived her talents and choices. We talked about our own life choices. And fear. How there’s far too much of it. How it cripples.


And we talked about how grateful we are that some folks find a way to move through their own fear (if they have it) and produce beauty in this world. About how our tears were joyful. About how nice it was to be able to share our thoughts and feelings together.


Heroes sometimes wear uniforms. Sometimes they stand high above the rest of us. More often than not, however, they look just like us. Doing their best to get along in this world with what they’ve got. Make no mistake – they are not without fear. Like us, their thoughts occasionally run to the perceived pain of failure. But unlike many of us, they go ahead and try to make their lives into – something.


Thank goodness.