A few toasts and a birthday

by chuckofish

Today is the 248th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party. You remember–when members of the Sons of Liberty dressed up like Mohawk Indians and dumped hundreds of crates of tea into Boston harbor as a protest against the Tea Act. A toast to these domestic terrorists of yore!

It is also the 210th anniversary of the first two in a series of four severe earthquakes which occurred in the vicinity of New Madrid, Missouri. The New Madrid zone experienced four of the largest North American earthquakes in recorded history, with moment magnitudes estimated to be as large as 7.0 or greater, all occurring within a 3-month period between December 1811 and February 1812. At New Madrid, trees were knocked down and riverbanks collapsed. This event shook windows and furniture in Washington, DC, rang bells in Richmond, Virginia, sloshed well water and shook houses in Charleston, South Carolina, and knocked plaster off of houses in Columbia, South Carolina. In Jefferson, Indiana, furniture moved, and in Lebanon, Ohio, residents fled their homes. There was renewed concern in the 1990s of imminent earthquake activity and I remember putting away my antique china for fear it might be broken. We may have had some water in reserve in the basement too as a precaution…but nothing happened and I don’t worry about such things anymore.

Today is also the birthday of George Santayana (1863-1952), philosopher, essayist, novelist, poet, and legendary Harvard professor. Here is one of his poems, A Toast, in keeping with the situation:

See this bowl of purple wine,

Life-blood of the lusty vine!

All the warmth of summer suns

In the vintage liquid runs,

All the glow of winter nights

Plays about its jewel lights,

Thoughts of time when love was young

Lurk its ruby drops among,

And its deepest depths are dyed

With delight of friendship tried.

Worthy offering, I ween,

For a god or for a queen,

Is the draught I pour to thee,–

Comfort of all misery,

Single friend of the forlorn,

Haven of all beings born,

Hope when trouble wakes at night,

And when naught delights, delight.

Holy Death, I drink to thee;

Do not part my friends and me.

Take this gift, which for a night

Puts dull leaden care to flight,

Thou who takest grief away

For a night and for a day.

I will be toasting my dual personality on Saturday, because it is her birthday.

Here is a snapshot of the siblings a week after her 2nd birthday on Christmas morning. Our brother is 9, she is 2 and I am 4 1/2. I loved the dress I was wearing. Another girl in my class had it and I felt very cool. In fact, there might have been three of us in my small junior kindergarten class with that dress. It was red. The things that stay in your mind!

Anyway, here’s to my lovely and much-loved sister on her birthday.

(Long distance toasting!)

Now it’s time for tree-trimming…

The painting at the top is by Ernest Lawson (1873 – 1939) who studied at the Art Students League, New York, with J. Alden Weir and John Twachtman, and later in Paris at the Académie Julien. Upon his return to the United States he produced his famous impressionistic urban landscapes that linked him to the Ashcan school.