dual personalities

I had a fine week. There’s a definite hint of spring in the air and the sun has been shining quite a lot. But what I really long for is a good thunderstorm and plenty of rain to wash away the winter grime. Since the forecast contains no hint of rain, I looked for thunderstorms online, and naturally found myself perusing 19th and early 20th century paintings. Somehow even the grimiest cities look romantic in the rain.

Take, for example, James Tissot’s painting of a Rainy Day on the Thames in 1876.

The date of this painting got me thinking that while people were swanning about in London (and indeed New York, Boston…), settlers were eking out a precarious existence in sod houses on the American prairie or riding to slaughter at the Little Big Horn with Custer (June, 1876).

And that got me thinking that there has always been a disjunction between the experiences of city people and those who live in the countryside. Other people’s struggles are easy to judge from the comfort and safety of our homes but the consequences of such casual judgments can be dire.

Recently, I read the memoir of Sarah Raymond Herndon, who traveled from Missouri to Montana in a wagon train in 1865, during a particularly violent period of the Indian wars in Montana Territory. She has firm convictions — as inexperienced youth often do — and is disparaging about the few Indians she encounters, noting that one warrior “was very disappointing as the ‘Noble Red Man’ we read about. He wore an old, ragged Federal suit, cap and all. There were no feathers, beads or blankets.” Obviously, back in Missouri she developed an idealized view that gave birth to a dangerous contempt when it met reality. Unconcerned about the Indians, she leaves camp frequently and wanders off into the hills to pick wild flowers. She seems impervious to the sight of burned-out sod houses and wagons and to the frequent graves they pass. When two men fleeing Montana because of the Indian deprivations join her train, she writes, “how I pity any man who has so little grit. I should think they’d be afraid to show their faces to their neighbors and say, ‘We were afraid, so we came back home.'” She goes on to remark, “We would not like to be scalped and butchered by the Indians, but it does seem so cowardly to run away from danger.” Her strong belief in God and her ingrained code of behavior give her the gumption to continue the trip as friends die of disease and the Indian threat increases. But make no mistake. Her fortitude is largely the result of inexperience, a jaw-dropping underestimation of the foe, and a deep determination that life will go her way. In short, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the Indians never kidnap her or attack her wagon train.

All of this reminds us of how our preconceptions can blind us to reality. When the news creates a stereotype, ask yourself if there can be more to the story. Next time you want to reject someone who doesn’t believe what you believe, bother to find out why. The answers may be hard to take, but at least they’ll be real.

*John Keats

How’s it going? We are on “spring break” all week, so we are doing well. No grand plans or parties (like the baby shower last spring break!) but we are making the most of the time off from work. DN and I do enjoy hanging out with Katie at the same time, as opposed to the playtime shifts that working from home requires.

Since aunt Mary showed the floral ensemble yesterday, I simply had to show the animal dress she also sent darling Katie (above). How cute is that?

This photo pairing really shows the true Katie, second to second. Contemplating a new toy with great focus (and ladylike crossed ankles!), then tearing her socks off and eating them, rings rolling.

Here Katie is showing off her lunging skills. (And DN Is showing off his photography skills.) I haven’t done yoga in over a year, and she has far surpassed any flexibility I ever had. Still on the way to crawling, and excited about this clearance from the floor!

🙂

*”Lonesome Polecat,” the tune which popped into my head the other day, and which Katie loved. (I sing a lot of songs during diaper changes.) We watched this great scene together and she was delighted.

My sister consistently posts about darling Katie and my mom covered the weekend, so I’m left posting about my craft updates. Oh well, I am who I am.

The Jefferson City Public Library had a book sale this weekend and I made out like a bandit. I got a bunch of DVDs and several records. Tell me this Peter and the Wolf wasn’t a find for a $1! And also the Judds.

I made a new pouch style this weekend.

Pretty cute, if I do say so myself. I also started working on a new endeavor–adult clothing, tunics specifically. Putting the pattern together required quite a bit of floor time.

And then cutting it out! I need one of those garden kneelers!

The end result is not quite ready for primetime, so I’ll leave with this, instead. BONUS KATIE CONTENT.

Someone was quite pleased with her darling ensemble. Oh Mylanta, I can’t handle it.

And neither could Katie!

For a change of pace and because I have nothing else to say, let’s imagine that time travel is possible. There are no language barriers and we don’t have to worry about being seen or disrupting the space-time continuum. The only rules are that you can’t go back to relive any part of your own life, and you can’t choose to witness big events — no vital biblical scenes (e.g. the last supper), no conquest of Everest, major battles or great scientific discoveries. The time machine will send you to some random day in the year and place you choose. Here are my picks represented via paintings, one for each season.

I’d definitely pay a spring visit to the ancient Near East c. 710 BC. I’d probably choose Nineveh rather than Jerusalem, but I liked this 19th century British watercolor better than the alternatives I found, so I settled for the latter.

Since I would definitely avoid the Near East in summer, I think I’ll choose Port Clyde, Maine c. 1925, as envisioned by N.C. Wyeth. I could spend the better part of the day scrambling along the rocks and then head home to drink tea, read, chat (assuming I had company) and play board games. I’d fall asleep to the sound of the ocean.

I can imagine a rainy autumn afternoon in Vermont, c. 1850. (Modern painting by Albert Gruppe.) After I have finished my daily chores, I might take a walk to visit a friend or just get some fresh air.

As for winter, you can drop me into the Netherlands in c. 1610 as represented by Pieter Brueghel the younger. I have no connection to the place other than liking the painting, but why not try something new?

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. The exercise has reinforced my growing tendency to withdraw from the world to simpler, if not better, times. I miss knowing where I stand and how I fit in. Everything is so topsy-turvy right now that I’m having a hard time keeping track of the new orthodoxies, which seem so determined to correct bad habits and redress wrongs that they are destined to throw the baby out with the bathwater (if I may use an old cliché without offending anyone). Excuse me while I go fiddle with my time machine…

And have a great weekend!

I am a broken record on this blog, but I don’t think anyone is complaining that this weekly post always amounts to “Katie continues to move / groove / be adorable.” We are lucky that this is the case!

Katie visited the doctor this week and was declared “very healthy.” I had the experience of a parent at the parent-teacher conference of an “A” student, who wanted the doctor to articulate every which way that Katie is “very healthy.” I also went to the appointment armed with questions since it’s been 3 whole months since we saw the doctor. His response to most of them was, “She is happy? And gaining weight? She’s fine!” The exception was when he said “It’s wintertime?” in response to my question about a dry patch on Katie’s foot. Good to know!! (I do think, as a “pandemic mom” with basically no real-time comparisons for my baby, I get a pass for being a little neurotic.)

Now for the fun updates:

Katie can pull herself up to kneeling, which affords her the great privilege of banging on the coffee table and reaching for remotes and coffee cups. (You might notice that they are all pushed to the far edge in the above gif.) I finally child-proofed the shelves on the TV credenza, and now it seems like “all surfaces” are up next.

My photography is getting a little shoddy, as evidenced here, but it is because I have to keep more than one eye on Katie at all times now. Here she is exercising her reaching skills, often employed in the service of finding and grabbing non-toys. (Classic.)

The most fun reaching and climbing takes place on top of a parent — I have officially become a jungle gym.

In general, she continues to explore everything in ways that sometimes seem quite silly…

but are, of course, quite brilliant when you really think about it. (There’s that broken record!)