dual personalities

Month: May, 2018

May 18, 2018

We can laugh about it now

by chuckofish

Friday at last. Phew. Yesterday I was involved in a little fender-bender on the way to work about two blocks from my house. No big deal, but it still threw me for a loop. It is jarring to have to deal with the Polizei so early in the day. I think I actually told the OM that “it’ll buff right out” when I called him.

I do have some good news: I found Season 3 of The Detectorists on Acorn! This is the British show about Andy and Lance, friends who share a passion for metal detecting and the hope that they will make an important historical find.

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It won Best Comedy at the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards 2018 for season three, but writer, director and star of the show Mackenzie Crook says that there won’t be another season. C’est la vie. I’ll enjoy watching season three this weekend.

On Saturday we will walk with team wee babes in the “March for Babies” March of Dimes walk.

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Last year we were rained out, so this will be our first such event. Should be special.

There are also a couple of good estate sales to check out and I will engage in my usual puttering around the house. Sounds like a plan.

And, hey, the sermon in Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding this Saturday will be delivered by The Most Reverend Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. This is cool. I have heard the Very Rev. Mr. Curry preach and he is, indeed, a good preacher who is not embarrassed by the name of JESUS. But I won’t be watching, because, really, I could care less about royal weddings, even Anglican ones. Perhaps many millions of people will watch and hear a good Anglican service and hear some good hymns and that is a good thing. No doubt about it.

But this was very interesting.

Have a good weekend!

4 Comments
May 17, 2018

Hi-diddly-ho

by chuckofish

Today in the Episcopal Church we honor William Hobart Hare (May 17, 1838 – October 23, 1909) who was an American bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, back when that’s what it was called.

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One of the leading missionaries in America, Hare earned the title “the Apostle of the West” for his dedicated work in the rural Dakotas among pioneers and Native Americans. He was also known as the “Apostle to the Sioux.”

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Bishop William Hobart Hare and traveling equipment(

The house of bishops elected him bishop in 1872 and his territory originally included everything north of the Niobrara River in Nebraska and west of the Missouri River as far as the Rocky Mountains. It was not an easy assignment.

He wrote from Cheyenne Reserve to his sister: “I have been on a trip now for ten days or more, a fairly comfortable one, though a heavy storm of wind and rain blew my tent down over my head last Tuesday night and gave me hours of work and much wretchedness, and my horse balked in the middle of the Cheyenne River on Friday last as I was fording it, broke the single-tree loose and left me in the middle of the rapidly running stream with the water running into my wagon-box. But such ills are the concomitants of travel out here, and I am used to them.” (You can read more about his experiences here.)

The wilderness assigned to the young bishop seemed an almost unmanageable field, but he betook himself to tent life and traveled over the wild country and, having thus made himself familiar with it, he gradually divided it into ten departments and placed a clergyman of ability and fidelity in charge of each of these departments and the missionary work soon fell into shape and was carried on with comparative ease.

The development of South Dakota and its final admission to statehood led to a slight change in the territory assigned to his jurisdiction, and in 1883 his title was changed to missionary bishop of South Dakota, and he chose Sioux Falls as the see city of his missionary diocese. He has labored with all of zeal and earnestness and has infused vitality into all departments of church work in his diocese, while he has been aided and encouraged by the hearty and faithful co-operation of his clergy and his people. It has been his to watch the progress of the church in South Dakota from its inception, ever keeping pace with the onward march of the years as they have fallen into the abyss of time. He has guided the destinies of his church with a hand made strong by power from on high, and with the power which came to steady the hand has also come the divine light to illume the way… He has witnessed the rise of the state, where he has served as bishop for thirty-two years, is loyal to it and its people and has the sincere respect and affectionate regard of all with whom he has come in contact as a church man and as a citizen. (Doane Robinson 1904)

The Calvary Church was the first church built in Sioux Falls.

Screen Shot 2018-05-16 at 11.43.56 AM.pngAs Hare’s congregation grew, he saw the need for a building, “as solid and unmoving as his faith, to stand as the cornerstone for his congregation in the area’s biggest city.” Hobart enlisted the aid of John Jacob Astor III to help raise money for a cathedral. Astor’s contributions were in memory of his late wife, Charlotte Augusta Astor — a patron of Hare’s missions and of All Saint’s School, another Hare creation. Astor’s contributions came to $20,000. The cornerstone was laid Dec. 5, 1888, and Hare’s cathedral was finished a year later. The building itself was constructed of Sioux quartzite.

Bishop Hare, although he died in New Jersey, was buried in Sioux City next to the church under the large cross (below).

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Holy God, you called your servant William Hobart Hare to proclaim the means of grace and the hope of glory to the peoples of the Great Plains: We give you thanks for the devotion of those who received the Good News gladly, and for the faithfulness of the generations who have succeeded them. Strengthen us with your Holy Spirit, that we may walk in their footsteps and lead many to faith in Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Oh and by the way, today is also Bob Saget’s birthday.

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Have a good day. Tomorrow is Friday!

3 Comments
May 16, 2018

“Gonna build a mountain from a little hill”*

by chuckofish

Today we toast Sammy Davis Jr. who died on this day in 1990.

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Here’s an interesting tidbit for you: John Wayne loaned Sammy Davis Jr. his iconic cavalry hat (the one he had worn in all three of his John Ford-directed calvary films) to wear in Sergeants 3 (1962)–the pretty terrible remake of Gunga Din (1939) which starred the Rat Pack. That was a pretty cool thing for Sammy.

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You can read about the making of the movie here. I can’t really recommend actually watching this movie, as I loathe comedic westerns. If you are in the mood for a Sammy Davis Jr. movie, I would suggest The Cannonball Run (1981) in which Sammy and Dean Martin masquerade as priests in the cross-country car race (along with Burt Reynolds et al) and Dino gets to say, “If we were Methodists we’d have a good shot at gettin’ laid.” Zut alors!

Interesting tidbit #2: Sammy Davis Jr. was the first African-American to be invited to spend the night at the White House. Guess which president invited him? Yes, Richard Nixon.

Fun facts to know and tell.

*Leslie Bricusse/Anthony Newley

4 Comments
May 15, 2018

Somebody loves us all

by chuckofish

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The Filling Station

 


Oh, but it is dirty!

—this little filling station,

oil-soaked, oil-permeated

to a disturbing, over-all

black translucency.

Be careful with that match!

 


Father wears a dirty,

oil-soaked monkey suit

that cuts him under the arms,

and several quick and saucy

and greasy sons assist him

(it’s a family filling station),

all quite thoroughly dirty.

 

Do they live in the station?

It has a cement porch

behind the pumps, and on it

a set of crushed and grease-

impregnated wickerwork;

on the wicker sofa

a dirty dog, quite comfy.

 

Some comic books provide

the only note of color—

of certain color. They lie

upon a big dim doily

draping a taboret

(part of the set), beside

a big hirsute begonia.

 

Why the extraneous plant?

Why the taboret?

Why, oh why, the doily?

(Embroidered in daisy stitch

with marguerites, I think,

and heavy with gray crochet.)

 

Somebody embroidered the doily.

Somebody waters the plant,

or oils it, maybe. Somebody

arranges the rows of cans

so that they softly say:

esso—so—so—so

to high-strung automobiles.

Somebody loves us all.

–Elizabeth Bishop

I kind of love this a lot. And the painting by Edward Hopper. BTW, Hopper died in his studio in New York City 51 years ago on May 15, 1967. He was buried two days later in the family’s grave at Oak Hill Cemetery in  Nyack, NY, his place of birth.

2 Comments
May 14, 2018

Simple pleasures

by chuckofish

What a weekend! No mother could ask for more (except for all three of her children to be home!) than a weekend filled with all my favorite things: Doris Day, estate sales, lunch out, mani-pedis, the wee babes, wonderful gift bags of treats from all three daughters, barbecued hamburgers/hotdogs, margaritas, spinning tunes in the Florida room, someone accompanying me to church, and brunch out with mimosas. Sigh.

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BTW, I was not the only one to get presents. I gave little Lottie a shopping cart to push around because she likes a push toy better than anything and because she likes shopping. I mean the girl gets a new pair of shoes every week. (Note the gold gladiator sandals she is working here.) The shopping cart is also perfect for piling vintage toys in.

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The twins are clearly musical geniuses.

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And this quote from daughter #2 on her Instagram page was the cherry on the proverbial sundae:

“When I was learning why the sun rose and the moon set, how the flowers grew and the rain fell, that God and heaven and art and letters existed, that it was intelligent to say one’s prayers, and that well-bred children never told a lie, I learned that a mother can be strong and still sweet, and sweet although she is strong; and that she whom the world and her children both have need of, is of more value to each, for this reason.” — Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

My cup runneth over yet again.

4 Comments
May 12, 2018

And will this wind be so mighty as to lay low the mountains of the earth? *

by chuckofish

We’ve had some major wind storms in recent weeks — nothing like the tornadoes that they get in the Midwest, but destructive nonetheless. While I was away on my epic road-trip, one such storm dropped a tree right across the driveway at our cottage.

The same wind broke another tree, sending half squarely onto our newly finished sun-room.

Here’s another view.

Then it proceeded to rain for days and days, ruining the ceiling, walls, and floor of the room.

That’s an up-side-down boot rack with a foot-stool and antlers perched on top, in case you wondered. You can also see the leaking ceiling and sodden floor.

We finally got someone to put a tarp over the roof, so the leaking stopped, but we are still waiting for the insurance people to decide what the repairs are worth. It took weeks for the adjuster to come, but he had to drive all the way from Rochester, so the delay is (mostly) forgivable.

The whole episode has been something of a circus, what with driving back and forth, missed calls, and key exchanges, and we are frustrated to have the new work ruined. Yet, I know how lucky we are: the storm damaged camp, not home; no one was hurt, and we have insurance. It made me think about the devastation that wind causes.

Wind is scary.

“Voiceless it cries,
Wingless flutters,
Toothless bites,
Mouthless mutters.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Remember Joplin, Missouri?

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Unlike people who knowingly build houses in perilous locations vulnerable to flooding, mudslides, avalanches, or volcanoes, no one can avoid the wind. Next time you want to donate some money to a charity, you might consider giving to the Red Cross Tornado Relief Fund.

I know I will.

*”The End of the World” from Beyond the Fringe (1961).

2 Comments
May 11, 2018

Little feet along the floor

by chuckofish

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Daughter #2 asked me to find a vintage mother/daughter photo for her to post on Mother’s Day. I told her I would look. There are really very few and I’m sure the above example was not really what she had in mind.

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The other choices weren’t a whole lot better.

Oh well. It was sweet of her to ask.

Mother’s Day will be the highlight and raison d’être of the weekend. Daughter #1 is coming home and we will get together with the boy and his wee family for a barbecue on Saturday. Then on Sunday I’ll take the OM and daughter #1 to my faculty club for brunch/mimosas after church.

Lovely, lovely, lovely.

And to all the young mothers out there I say: don’t waste a minute complaining about being tired or bored or too busy. It all goes by in a flash and “there isn’t always someone who wants you singing to him or nibbling his ear or brushing his cheek with a dandelion blossom. Somebody who knows when you’re being silly, and laughs and laughs.” (Marilynne Robinson, Lila) Sooner than you can believe it, you’re a grandma and they’re giving you the side-eye, not so sure who this crazy lady is.

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So enjoy your kids. There is nothing like that feeling of being the most important person in the world to someone. It doesn’t last. They are God’s gift to you for a little while.

Have a great weekend. Call your mother!

 

5 Comments
May 10, 2018

E-I-E-I-O

by chuckofish

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To have grandchildren is not only to be given something but to be given something back.

You are given back something of your children’s childhood all those years ago. You are given back something of what it was like to be a young parent. You are given back something of your own childhood even, as on creaking knees you get down on the floor to play tiddlywinks, or sing about Old MacDonald and his farm, or watch Saturday morning cartoons till you’re cross-eyed.

It is not only your own genes that are part of your grandchildren but the genes of all sorts of people they never knew but who, through them, will play some part in times and places they never dreamed of. And of course along with your genes, they will also carry their memories of you into those times and places too—the afternoon you lay in the hammock with them watching the breezes blow, the face you made when one of them stuck out a tongue dyed Popsicle blue at you, the time you got a splinter out for one of them with the tweezers of your Swiss army knife. On some distant day they will hold grandchildren of their own with the same hands you once held them by as you searched the beach at low tide for Spanish gold.

In the meantime, they are the freshest and fairest you have. After you’re gone, it is mainly because of them that the earth will not be as if you never walked on it.

-Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words

[Love this “Portrait of Mrs Salisbury with her Grandchildren Edward and Elizabeth Bagot” by John Michael Wright, 1675-76. She was Welsh–thus the hat.]

5 Comments
May 9, 2018

What are you reading?

by chuckofish

Sometimes it seems I have nothing to read and sometimes I have piles of books demanding my attention. Feast or famine, you know? Right now I am in feast mode, having an abundance of reading material at my disposal. My DP gave me two Alan Furst novels for my birthday last month. I am currently reading The Polish Officer.

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While ploughing through that pile of 1940s New Yorker magazines, I became acquainted with Hamilton Basso, who was an associate editor there for twenty years. He also wrote 11 novels, The View From Pompey’s Head being the most well-known. It spent 40 weeks on The New York Times Bestseller List when it was published in 1954. I think they made it into a movie. Anyway, I bought a used copy online and am reading it now and enjoying it.

I also have books that have been given to me by people at work…

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…and books that I pick up at estate sales. I went to the used book sale last Saturday at Ladue Chapel, a prominent Presbyterian church in town, where I expected to find many treasures. However, I was disappointed with their selection. I did get a few things, including Nothing Daunted, the true story of two privileged Smith College grads who head west in 1911 and have their minds expanded by their experience teaching in a small Colorado school. I had been meaning to read it, so was happy to get a copy for 50 cents.

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Well, I have stacks of books to read, but no time to read them. In the evening I am just too tired. Quelle conundrum. I mean really.

It is also alarming to note that the year is speeding by with alarming alacrity! Classes will be ending soon! Zut alors!

Speaking of calendars, I loved this:

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Speaking of cartoonist, this about George Booth was interesting.

So what are you reading?

3 Comments
May 8, 2018

The Missouri Way

by chuckofish

Today is Truman Day in Missouri. It honors Harry S Truman, the only U.S. president who was born in Missouri.

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On April 25, 1947 Truman opened the first bowling alley at the White House. (What? No bowling shoes?)

State offices are closed in Missouri on Truman Day. However, schools, stores, post offices and other businesses and organizations are open and public transit services run to their regular schedules, so although I have lived here practically all my life, I never knew this was a holiday. Since daughter #1 works for the state of MO now, she has the day off, and that is how I found out about it.

You learn something new every day.

Truman did not change perceptibly when he became president. He still liked things the “Missouri way,” which extended to food served at the White House. I was not surprised to learn that Harry Truman was a “meat and potatoes” man–no arugula for him.

“Like the Roosevelts, the Trumans did not care for elaborate food, but, unlike their predecessors, they demanded it better-cooked. Mrs. Truman was a very good cook and she expected good cooking on her table…she brought with her to the White House Vietta Garr, the family cook from Independence, who would sometimes prepare special back-home dishes the family particularly liked…

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Vietta Garr and Leona Estes back in Missouri

The President’s breakfast menu remained nearly constant: orange juice, grapefruit, or tomato juice; hot cereal in winter and cold cereal other times; whole-wheat toast and milk–sometimes buttermilk. The staff had to learn how to make coffee for the Trumans…This attention to detail was typical of Bess Truman’s attitude toward food. She gained the reputation of serving the best of home-cooked food, even for guests…President Truman described himself as a “meat and potatoes man,” though he was actually a light eater…At one time when the White House was giving a luncheon for Prime Minister Churchill…the President ordered the menu…oyster soup, celery hearts, assorted olives, filet mignon with mushrooms, watermelon pickles, asparagus hollandaise, grilled tomatoes, hard rolls, hearts of lettuce salad with Roquefort dressing, strawberry shortcake…Special family “receipts” were guarded in the “Confidential File.”…Occasionally the Trumans would bring back from trips home to Missouri some sourghum molasses. It was a family favorite served on cornbread…Cornmeal Dumplings with Turnip Greens…was enjoyed many times at Truman family private suppers.”
—The Presidents’ Cookbook, Poppy Cannon and Patricia Brooks

Here is Bess Truman’s Ozark Pudding recipe. (This is the copy of the recipe as it was sent out to people who requested it. It comes from the Social Correspondence Office Files of the Truman Papers.)

1 egg
3/4 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons flour
1 and 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped nuts
1/2 cup raw apples, finely chopped
1 teaspoon vanilla
Beat egg and sugar a long time until very smooth. Mix flour, baking powder, salt, and stir into sugar-egg mixture. Add apples, nuts, and vanilla. Bake in a buttered pie pan in a 350 degree over for 35 minutes. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream.

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What do you say we whip up some Ozark Pudding for Truman Day? Cornbread with sourghum molasses sounds pretty good to me as well…

3 Comments