Transitory Roast Beef

When I work in the kitchen alone, I listen to Vanity Fair through Librivox, free audiobooks from the public domain.  If you love a deep, delicious English accent, take a moment, click on the link, and scroll down to chapter 8 to listen to Graham Williams read.  There are many different volunteer readers, but he is hands-down the best.  If I could afford it, I would hire Graham Williams to read every book in my library. 

Today, as I prepare for some serious feasting tomorrow, I thought I’d share this thought from Thackeray:

It is all vanity, to be sure.  But, who will not own to liking a little of it?  I should like to know what well-constituted mind, merely because it is transitory, dislikes roast beef.  That is a vanity. But, may every man who reads this have a wholesome portion of it through life, I beg.  Aye, though my readers were 500,000!  Sit down, gentlemen, and fall to with a good, hearty appetite: the fat, the lean, the gravy, the horseradish, as you like it.  Don’t spare it.  Another glass of wine, Jones, my boy, a little bit of the Sunday side!

Yes, let us eat our fill of the vain thing, and be thankful therefore.

Hudson and Gage

First, Fine Art Friday.  I think I’d title this one Comrades! Isn’t it charming?


The Watermelon 
Grace Hudson (1865-1937)

~     ~     ~     ~

When Circle of Quiet posted a list of what her readers are reading this summer, this book caught my attention.  My niece Emma is spending the summer working at the American embassy in Athens.  Her mom, my beloved SIL Kathie, is the mother of two world travelers.  She gave me the idea of reading books set in the location of their travels.  So I was on the prowl for a book about Greece.   When  I saw this, I immediately emailed Kathie about my plans to read it.  She emailed back and wondered if Eleni Gage was related to Nicholas Gage who wrote the book Eleni. She is his daughter.  Bingo!  Obviously, I couldn’t read North of Ithaka until I’d first read Eleni.

This is a true story, set in WWII and the subsequent Greek Civil War of 1946-1949, of a mother who sacrifices her life to save her children’s lives.  Her son, who lost his mother when he was nine, writes the story.  I listened to this story on my morning walks and the plot was so compelling that I put in many extra miles so I could keep listening.  Each night at dinner I told Curt and Collin vignettes from the book.  

In the same way that The Kiterunner immerses you into Afghani  culture, Eleni will immerse you into culture of the Greek mountain village of Lia.  There are more similarities.  Both authors write astonishing prose in a language not native to them.  The story grips your heart, and seeps into your soul.  Heartbreak takes up residence.  I will be thinking about this book in December, I know I will.  Nicholas Gage was an investigative reporter with the New York Times.  After he honed his skills investigating the mafia he moved back to Greece to investigate his mother’s execution by communist guerrillas.  Then he wrote this book.

His daughter’s book, North of Ithaka, is the story of Eleni Gage’s (Nick’s daughter) decision to move to Greece to rebuild Eleni Gatzoyiannis’ (Nick’s mother) home in Lia. Some reviewers have called it an ex-patriot story, comparing it to Under the Tuscan Sun.  However, I cannot start this book until I’ve read Eleni‘s sequel, A Place for Us, Eleni’s Children in America

The story is taken up when Nicholas and his sisters Olga, Kanta, and Fotini leave Greece, travel by ship to  America, moving to Worcester, Massachusetts where their father, Christos, has made a home. The most important job a Greek father has is to get his daughters married to a good Greek husband.  Think: My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Eventually Nick’s sister Glykeria was able to escape from the communists, join the family, and marry a good Greek boy.  After I have finished this book and have the context to the tight Greek community in America, I will be ready to read Eleni Gage’s story of moving back to Greece.

Going On in Courage

The best birthday present I received last year was the friendship of this woman.  My friend Katie brought her by for a brief hello and
goodbye.  She was headed home to Zimbabwe; I was leaving for a visit with my
brother in Pennsylvania. But in that half hour overlap of
our travels, we connected.  In the numinous moments we were given, a bond formed. We both were in the habit of sending weekly emails
to our family and friends and added each other to our email list. 

In 2007 her
messages have described the impact of the political and economic crisis that is
taking place in Zimbabwe. 

Fuel and food are scarce. 

Violence has moved in.

Justice is a fugitive. 

Normal has fled the country with her sister
Peace. 

I remember the shock that stabbed me when I saw the movie Hotel Rwanda.  My first question was, “What was I doing?  How could this take place so recently and we could be so unaware?”  I remember a few articles in World magazine, but genocide of that magnitude didn’t register.  Sometimes we need a personal connection to make us care.  Sad, but true.  My BIL cares deeply for Angola, because he’s been there, he knows the people. This friend is my connection and my reminder to pray.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall
preserve thy soul.

Psalm 121

I cling to the promises of Christ which I memorized as a
child as I pray for my friend and for her people in Zimbabwe. 

Lo,
I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.


I will never leave you,
nor forsake you.

And the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer are so apropos, so
potent.

Give us this day our daily bread
Forgive us our trespasses.
Lead us not into
temptation.

Deliver us from evil.  


photo credit: RLF

We
live as those who are on a journey home:

a
home we know will have the lights on

and
the door open

 and
our Father waiting for us when we arrive. 

That
means in all adversity

our
worship of God is joyful,

our
life is hopeful,

our
future is secure

There
is nothing we can lose on earth

that
can rob us of the treasures

God
has given us and will give us.  

~
John Oxenham

Courage
is not having the strength to go on;

it
is going on when you don’t have the strength.

 ~
Theodore Roosevelt

Three Common Words

Today I give you three common words from Kristin Lavransdatter, The Mistress of Husaby.

Nice      (I initially learned this from my beloved Latin teacher)  The meaning of this word has changed from particular to pleasant.  Look it up and one definition is overdelicate or fastidious; fussy.  I have run across this meaning several times in Kristin Lavransdatter.  One character was described as being nice and hard on himself.  Knowing this meaning is the only way that sentence makes sense.  Austen readers beware!  This use is quite common with Austen.

Lavrans had always been so nice in shaving himself before each holy day. p. 240

Thing      How could we exist without this word?  Can you imagine going One Whole Day without using it? The second definition of this uses the word in the definition: something referred to by a word, a symbol, a sign, an idea.  In KL it is used in the Old Norse meaning of popular assembly.  A footnote explains the three classes of Things: the parish Thing, the county Thing and the Lagthing. 

From Answers.com: The English
word ‘thing’, meaning “object” is also derived from this; the semantic evolution having been roughly “assembly” → “court” →
“case” → “business” → “purpose” → “object”.

A related word is moot, which was an ancient English representative meeting of freemen in the shire.

Room     In the description of the great hall, the notes say: “Two rows of wooden pillars supported the roof.  Between the line of pillars and the wall on each side was the sleeping-accommodation – two box-beds with doors at one end of the hall, and two broad fixed benches running the rest of the length of the hall.  These benches were divided into sleeping-places for the warriors (originally called “rooms”), and were wide enough to admit of each man’s keeping his belongings by him, while his weapons hung on the wall above him.”  Our word room comes from the Old English rǖm.

Kitchen Project, The Walls

This is one fine magazine.  It has wonderful essays,
recipes, reviews and pictures.  See that watermelon on the front?

Dan and Val (my youngest brother and his wife) cleaned their kitchen and
gave me eleven years of  bound yearbooks like this:


I’ve framed some full page illustrations and hung them on my wall.
The idea is to change the pictures with the seasons, but I have
only changed them with the year.

I have dead wall space above my cupboards and
a monochromatic color scheme.
What I needed was some color to vivify the place.

It’s time for the front page illustrations from Cooks.

They will go on the walls after they’ve had a fresh coat of paint.

It was fun to put the groups together.  There are many round shapes above.

I like the lines in the veggies below.

And the leftovers.  I’m excited to add a splash of beauty on my walls.
And, I have to admit, the frugal side of me is pulsing with joy.


Cahill, Again

Thomas Cahill is on a mission.  In his series, The Hinges of History, he is telling the story of Western Civilization in the context of gift giving. 

But history is also the narratives of grace, the recountings of those
blessed and inexplicable moments when someone did something    
for someone else, saved a life, bestowed a gift, gave something     
beyond what was required by circumstance.                                   

After his books on the Irish, the Jews, Jesus of Nazareth, and the Greeks, Cahill turns to medieval history.  He focuses on the story and influence of a few people:  Hildegard of Bingen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Francis of Assisi, Abelard and Héloïse, Thomas Aquinas, Chaucer, Giotto and Dante.  

Cahill’s Mysteries is very accessible, an easy to read book classified as pop history.  Without becoming too facile, he employs non-academic words, current idioms, and recent events in his writing: calling the Franciscans the first hippies, comparing earlier Islamic-Christian conflicts with the 9-11 attack by bin Laden and the war on Iraq. 

To name a child Astralabe [speaking Abelard and Héloïse’s love child]     
was to suggest that he was destined to be a very modern (and starry)       
trendsetter. It brings to mind the avant-garde rock musician Frank Zappa,
who named his daughter Moon Unit.
                                                         

The book contains many rich, colorful illustrations and photographs, especially of the art he reviews.  His style of footnoting is my absolute favorite: on the same page on a side column in a slightly smaller font.

The biggest blunder of this book is its title.  There are no cults in the book and the mysteries invoked in the title are intended to denote a sacramental wonder.  The subtitle doesn’t work at all.  At the end of the book Cahill looks at the current state of the (Roman) Catholic church.  I sense that a love for the (his?) church is the motivation for pages of text on the current priestly pedophilia crisis.  He argues for optional celibacy (married clergy, I think) and popular election of clerical positions which are now appointed.

I don’t think Cahill has ever matched the quality of work he did in How the Irish Saved Civilization.  I am grateful to have read Mysteries for two particular reasons:  His resounding recommendation of Kristin Lavransdatter; and his last two chapters on Dante which have primed my pump for reading The Divine Comedy

But I am thankful that I didn’t buy this book.  One read through was enough.

                        

Too Funny For Words

I’m back from our church’s Family Camp, another weekend jammed packed with good things.  A group of moms sat together “talking shop” and the issue of modesty came up.  One mom argued that young girls “just don’t know what they are doing when they dress with tops too low and shorts too high.”  Another disagreed and thought girls know exactly what they are doing and want to provoke a response. 

The question was posed: “Did you dress modestly when you were young?”  I will jump right in and admit that when I look back at some photos I shudder and wonder a) what I was thinking and b) why someone didn’t say something

This picture from 1979, for example.  The only reason I would voluntarily post a picture of me (or Curt) wearing shorts this short is because it is so stomach-clutching funny!  Matching shorts (guffaw), my husband’s tucked in shirt (snort), the white piping (giggle), and the pulled up socks (snicker).  Funny peculiar and funny ha-ha. Nerds of the Year award.  My brother-in-law has always had better taste in clothes than both of us combined, as evidenced in this picture.  Ay-yi-yi!!

Do you ever look back and wince?  Laugh?  Cry?  *grin*

Fine Art Friday

Five Boys on a Wall
Eastman Johnson c. 1871
 
For a larger view of the picture,
go to The Athenaeum and click on the picture

I like the contrast between the sharply defined edges of the boys’ figures,
and the fuzzy lines at the grass and sky.
Also, the wide parallel chunks across the picture
contrasted with the vertical images of the boys.

Aren’t you glad that we don’t have to wear all those clothes when it’s hot? 
I saw a picture of a fair in St. Louis taken around 1910. 
Every man wore a suit and hat; every woman had volumes
of dark dress and skirts gathered close to her body.
Long sleeves on every man and woman.
And the temperature was 105°!!
They made them tough back then.

Loathsome List

We are culture full of mooing affirmations.  We accentuate the positive and avoid the negative.  However, what you deny is as important as what you affirm. 

Think about it. 

If you ask a friend what she loves, that will tell you something about her. 
But ask her what she hates. The answer to that question will reveal a different side.

The Proverbs illustrate this, don’t they?  In one verse you see the antithesis: A false balance is abomination to the Lord; but a just weight is his delight.

In the spirit of affirmations and denials I’ve been compiling a Loathsome List.  Strictly speaking, some of the items are more irritating or annoying than loathsome.  And just because it lands on the list doesn’t mean that I’ve banished it from my life (particularly # 1 and #11).  And what may be loathsome (can you tell I like how that word rolls off the tongue?) to me may be acceptable to you.  So we allow each other a measure of quirkiness. 

So what about you, my friend?  What do you hate?

Carol’s Loathsome List

1.  Standing-overnight
dishwater

2.  Bitter cucumber
taste

3.  The demise of
favorite shoes

4.  Hearing harmony
sung off-key

5.  Deer-devoured
tulips

6.  Screaming, kicking tantrums in the grocery store

7.  Quiet tantrums held within my head.

8.  Any email with a
promise postscripted if you forward it to five people

9.  A mosquito’s buzz
near the pillow

10.  Racist comments,
gestures, acts

11.  Produce I’ve let
spoil in the fridge

12.  Cut-off telephone
conversations without a proper farewell

13.  A good book with
the last pages missing (not theoretical)

14.  An unreconciled bank statement

15.  A listener to gossip

16.  Litter (written the day after July 4th)

17. 105° without air conditioning

18.  Used gum in inappropriate places (underneath tables, on the street)

19.  A stain on a favorite white tee shirt

20.  Interest paid for consumables – like throwing $20 bills out the back door

What My Brother Taught Me Today


My brother, the tenor

For those of us who are sight-impaired this is such a cool thing.  If you’ve read this blog for a while, you are familiar with my embarrassing gaffes because I didn’t see clearly.  Like the time I thought the little boy had breeches on and he was buck naked on the bottom.   Or when I added a picture of an elderly woman reading to illustrate how-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up and didn’t realize that she was reading a book of dirty jokes.  Ay-yi-yi!!

So I just hung up from a lovely mid-day phone call from my brother Dan.  In the midst of our chit chat I mentioned a blog I liked but complained about the font being so small. 

“Here’s how you fix that,” my helpful brother-who-lurks suggested. “Hold down the control key and move the scroll-wheel on your mouse. Moving down makes the print larger, moving up makes it smaller.”

Control-Scroll makes print larger or smaller. 

Go ahead!
Try it!
Right now.

Who knew?

Thanks, bro. 

This was a much easier entry than
the book review I was going to write. <wink>

[Addendum: I was showing this to my co-workers
at the pharmacy and it didn’t work at first.
It won’t work with graphics at all, only print.]