Sad Cellos - Game of Thrones

I purchased the box set of Game of Thrones at the Worst Buy big box store near my home late Friday night.  Dr Desert Flower was in London at a conference, and I did not want to go out drinking alone - staying home with a full liquor cabinet was a much better option.  Over Friday night, Saturday, and this morning, I've watched all 5 DVDs.  The sadness of the cellos at the opening credits is haunting.  It played in my head as I sculpted ocotillo Saturday, trimmed bougainvilleas, picked up carelessly discarded Marlborough cigarette butts in my driveway from my neighbors, trimmed lavender, wiped out spiders' webs, truncated aloe stalks, refilled hummingbird feeders, re-directed palm tree growth (I've just about got the technique perfected to steer the growth of pigmy palms), cleaned up the garage, did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and pulled weeds - who needs a "honey do" list when your honey is gone and all these things are bugging you?

The cellos provide a resonating sadness, that when combined with the driving deep percussion behind it, tend to latch onto one's mind like almond butter to the roof of your mouth.  Filmed in Malta and Northern Ireland, it's visually brilliant, well written, superbly acted, and deliciously presented.  Add to that a few glasses of Tullamore Dew, and it made for excellent television.

If you'd not watched it yet... the end of Episode 4, Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things...  Katherine Stark does a masterful, spectacular, powerful, beautiful rallying speech that had me cheering Saturday morning the first time I watched it - and the replayed it thrice, to see it again and again (something that the clumsy Netflix interface doesn't do well, in streaming video, but on DVD works as it is supposed it).