While I always have the best intentions to post more frequently, I do have to admit that this will probably be the last of the batch of 5 posts for 2018. Hope springs eternal, but the academic year is...
While I always have the best intentions to post more frequently, I do have to admit that this will probably be the last of the batch of 5 posts for 2018. Hope springs eternal, but the academic year is filled with exciting research and writing, conference attendance, teaching, and other professional projects. Also, my daughter is now 3 years old, taller than ever, absolutely infatuated with He-Man and MOTU, and most of my free time is now devoted to watching He-Man with her and building Castle Grayskull out of playdough.
Also, we are embarking on a cross-state move in just a few short days. What this means is that the Library of Babel of Action Figures (the enormous Expedit) is no more.
It is hard to imagine, but approximately 35 plastic bins of action figures (labeled “figs, basement”) will soon be headed down the interstate toward our brand new home. While we are overjoyed with the new house, new town, and new job, this feels like the end of an era.
What is worse is that for the foreseeable future (until we can one day finish the basement,) there is no clear place for the Expedit. There is not clear place for the Shelves of Babel, with their complicated flying scenes.
This does not mean it is the end of “action figures my husband collects,” because it will MOST CERTAINLY not be the end of the action figures my husband collects, but it will be a really big change.
As much as I have joked, teased, and harassed Justin for carpeting the walls of our bedroom in thousands of action figures, (all of which seem to watch us while we sleep!) a larger part of me is sad. I will truly miss the Expedit.
However, I have to imagine that just like Cthulhu (Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn “In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming,”) the Expedit will rise up from its disassembled pile and rule our rooms again.
Until that time, I hope you will look forward to singular action figures peeking out from the nooks and crannies of our new house, on stairs, on bookshelves, and posed against small appliances. Though I’d never admit it to Justin, I know I will look forward to it, too!