dual personalities

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Office chic

by chuckofish

I’ve blogged about my work-place palace before, but I needed to update because I have a wonderful new addition and a restoration to show off. My oldest, dearest friend, Lars (that’s a nickname), gave me these fabulous Assyrian shedu (human-headed winged bull) and lamassu (human-headed winged lion) bookends from the Metropolitan Museum for Christmas.

"May these guardians linger by your palace forever and never leave them"*

“May these guardians linger by your palace forever and never leave them”*

Aren’t they the coolest? I’ve coveted them for ages, but could never quite justify the expense. They stand sentinel on top of one of my filing cabinets just to the left of my office door so that everyone who comes in will see them. The bookends complement the historical decor perfectly.  The picture leaning against the wall is Ashurbanipal hunting lions; the poster  is from an Assyriological conference we attended in Germany; peaking out of the corner is a model trebuchet, and in the foreground there’s a mug with Vivien Leigh as Cleopatra; a sculpture my eldest son made in sixth grade, my philodendron; and a photo of my youngest. Eclectic? Yes, but all things I love. Here’s another view:

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Just to give you an idea of the size of the originals, here’s a pic that my son took at the Louvre when he was there in December.

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If these wouldn’t give an intruder pause, I don’t know what would, but they’re a little outsize for anything less than an imperial palace.

Back on a human scale, in other office news,  I pieced together my broken relief and returned it to its rightful place. It’s smaller than before — I left the horse off because it was in too many tiny pieces — but it still looks great by my desk.

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And it draws the eye to my row of special edition mini-figs on the bookshelf above.

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From left to right: the cyclops; an Amazon warrior(ess); Ramses II (aka Yul Brynner) and a Greek hoplite.

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Further along we have a Spanish conquistador, George Washington, a Huron warrior (we call him Magua), a Scottish piper, and a Scots Guard. I’ve left out the middle of the row, but you get the idea. My little Lego warriors both compliment and contrast the serious subject matter of the books (war). Naturally, the figs are arranged in chronological order.

My office is full of treasures that make me enjoy spending time there.  Have you added anything new to your workspace?

*Paraphrased from a dedicatory inscription that Sennacherib had written for his wife. Here’s the original:

“And for Tashmetum-sharrat, the consort, my beloved wife, whose appearance the goddess Belet-ili has made perfect above all women, I had a palace of loveliness, celebration, and joy built and I set sphinxes of white limestone in its doorways. At the command of Assur, father of the gods, of Ishtar, the queen, may she be endowed with days of good health and a happy heart inside both these palaces, and may she have her fill of pleasure, and may the benevolent Alad and the benevolent Lamma deities linger beside these palaces forever and never leave them.”

I’ve always liked this inscription. It’s both sweet and kind of sad.

 

Great God! this is an awful place.*

by chuckofish

Preoccupied as I am with snow, I got to thinking about a movie pick for Friday that is snow-related.

The first film that came to mind, of course, was one of my favorite musicals, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954), directed by the great Stanley Donen and featuring the best-ever dance in the snow.

Then there is the entertaining Cold War thriller Ice Station Zebra (1968) starring a studly all-male cast that includes Rock Hudson, James Brown and Patrick MacGoohan. Who cares if the sets are terrible?

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If you like Robert Mitchum (and I do), you could watch Track of the Cat (1954), a film noir western wherein “complex and dangerous family dynamics play out against the backdrop of the first big snowstorm of winter.”

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Or there’s Scott of the Antarctic (1948)–the true story of the British explorer Robert Falcon Scott and his ill-fated expedition to try to be the first man to discover the South Pole. All the Brits have stiff upper lips (which become frostbitten) in this very sad rendering of a tragic tale.

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Jeremiah Johnson (1972) with Robert Redford has a lot of snow in it and it is a much better movie than Downhill Racer (1969) which also boasts Robert Redford and lots of snow. I vote for Jeremiah Johnson.

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Other movies that come to mind: The Shining (1980), The Grey (2011), The Pink Panther (1964). Can you think of any good movies that take place in a snowy locale? Did Elvis make a ski-bum movie?

*Scott at the South Pole

Vision and courage: you go girl edition

by chuckofish

Well, I guess you can say we have been preoccupied with snow lately. It does have a way of disturbing one’s routine. It snowed again last night. Bah humbug.

Snow days are great, but those (school) days must be made up. As the person who decides when to call a snow day, stress ensues. It is at such times that I turn to my lectionary.

Today in the Episcopal Church it is the feast day of Julia Chester Emery, missioner and founder of the United Thank Offering. We remember Julia for raising funds, organizing volunteers, administering institutions, and educating lay members of the church.

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“Apparently, her only training for this ministry was a willingness to try it, for she possessed no special education or preparation. Her only authority was collegial, for being a lay woman, she had neither the office nor the perquisites of ordained status to buttress her leadership. Julia Emery reminds us that we all possess the resources we need to be effective missionaries, except perhaps the two most important qualities exemplified in her—a willingness to try and the commitment to stick with it, even for a lifetime.” (Brightest and Best: A Companion to the Lesser Feasts and Fasts by Sam Portaro )

I can certainly relate to her. I mean, she is the ultimate Church Lady.

Julia Chester Emery was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in 1852. In 1876 she succeeded her sister, Mary, as Secretary of the Woman’s Auxiliary of the Board of Missions which had been established by the General Convention in 1871.

During the forty years she served as Secretary, Julia helped the Church to recognize its call to proclaim the Gospel both at home and overseas. Her faith, her courage, her spirit of adventure and her ability to inspire others combined to make her a leader respected and valued by the whole Church.

She visited every diocese and missionary district within the United States, encouraging and expanding the work of the Woman’s Auxiliary; and in 1908 she served as a delegate to the Pan-Anglican Congress in London. From there she traveled around the world, visiting missions in remote areas of China, in Japan, Hong Kong, the Philippines, Hawaii, and then all the dioceses on the Pacific Coast before returning to New York. In spite of the fact that travel was not easy, she wrote that she went forth “with hope for enlargement of vision, opening up new occasions for service, acceptance of new tasks.”

Through her leadership a network of branches of the Woman’s Auxiliary was established which shared a vision of and a commitment to the Church’s mission. An emphasis on educational programs, a growing recognition of social issues, development of leadership among women, and the creation of the United Thank Offering are a further part of the legacy Julia left to the Church when she retired in 1916.

In 1921, the year before she died, the following appeared in the Spirit of Missions: “In all these enterprises of the Church no single agency has done so much in the last half-century to further the Church’s Mission as the Woman’s Auxiliary.” Much of that accomplishment was due to the creative spirit of its Secretary of forty of those fifty years, Julia Chester Emery.

Quoted from the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

God of all creation, thou callest us in Christ to make disciples of all nations and to proclaim thy mercy and love: Grant that we, after the example of thy servant Julia Chester Emery, may have vision and courage in proclaiming the Gospel to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our light and our salvation, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Lets hear it for Julia Chester Emery! A woman with vision and courage and no “training” who got the job done.

The frolic architecture of the snow

by chuckofish

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The Snow-Storm
by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind’s masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.

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holly

Nothing burns like the cold*

by chuckofish

We had a snow day yesterday–so there was no going in to work–but there was plenty of work to be done at home.

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Daughter #2 and I toiled with shovels to clear the long expanse of driveway which was covered with 10-12 inches of flyover snow. In 0-degree weather.

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It was cold. Bundled up as we were with our Philmont gear and layers of clothing, it was still so cold.

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But we worked on and cleared a trail.

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And then we drank wine in front of the fire in the afternoon. And read books.

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It was 5 o’clock somewhere.

* George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches*

by chuckofish

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Yes, yesterday we had a blizzard.

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I ventured out in my trusty college boots, but the snow was way over the rolled cuffs of my jeans and the wind was howling so I headed back inside.

I put away the rest of the Christmas decorations–back to the basement–and tidied up. A blizzard is a great time to get one’s house back in order.

I also responded to some new interest in my old blogpost on the Sand Creek Massacre. The comments section was blowing up! I heard from a Japanese-American who lived as a child in the Amache Internment Camp during WWII and also from a retired history teacher who lived in Lamar, Colorado. It is amazing how the internet connects people.

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Blizzards are also excellent for encouraging reading without guilt. I finished re-reading Sackett by Louis L’Amour. L’Amour, you will recall, was the author of 89 novels, 14 short-story collections, and two full-length works of nonfiction and was considered “one of the world’s most popular writers” during his lifetime. A lot of what he wrote is not that great, but I like Hondo and Sackett. As I have said before, sometimes you are just not in the mood for great literature and need a good yarn.

“People who live in comfortable, settled towns with law-abiding citizens and a government to protect them, they never think of the men who came first, the ones who went through hell to build something.

“I tell you, ma’am, when my time comes to ride out, I want to see a school over there with a bell in the tower, and a church, and I want to see families dressed up of a Sunday, and a flag flying over there. And if I have to do it with a pistol, I’ll do it!”

Sackett–a man after my own heart.

Today, of course, is a snow day as there is no getting out of our driveway. Daughter #2 and I shall attempt to clear it. Onward and upward.

*e.e. cummings

(ice)-breaking the sabbath

by chuckofish

With the temperature finally slightly above freezing we thought it would be ideal to attempt to break our station wagon out of its icy prison, a very solid foot of ice and snow. We bought an axe and set to work.
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Notice that Tim is standing in a trough — that’s where the car used to be. It took a lot of cutting, chopping, and pushing, but we finally got it out. Then the boys set to work on the driveway.

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See why the axe is necessary? It is the only thing that can make a dent in the white stuff.

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And, of course, my always creative boys made Ice Henge in our front yard out of the blocks they cut. Isn’t it artistic? Maybe on the other side they’ll make an igloo. At least they didn’t go the lilliputian horror route like this (found on the internet):

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What are you doing with your snow and ice?

In the verisimilitude of a dream*

by chuckofish

I’ve always been a champion daydreamer and, truth be told, have probably spent more of my life staring into space than doing anything useful. I should be ashamed, but I’m not. In fact, recent “scientific studies” have shown that daydreaming is essential to the healthy mind. Well, duh. Shirley Jackson understood that “no live organism can continue to live sanely under conditions of absolute reality. Even larks and katydids are thought by some to dream.” She didn’t need pseudo-scientists  to validate the fact. Still, in this day and age of frenzied activity maybe we do need to be reminded that daydreaming promotes creativity and empathy, consolidates learning, helps us work through problems, lowers blood pressure, and gives us a “better working memory” (whatever that means). If you are interested in what the “experts” say, you can read all about it here. As for me, I’m simply going to continue to stare into space.
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It’s oh, so pleasant… Take some time out of your busy day to try it!

*My mother loved this phrase, but I can’t remember where she came across it…

The family that plays together stays together

by chuckofish

Studies show that spending leisure time with one’s family – be it playing a game of Scrabble or taking a road trip – enhances the quality of life and the relationships at home. No kidding.

Here are a few pictures of my older brother and his two children literally “playing” together when they gathered from across the country (and from Spain!) during the holidays.

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Fulbright scholar Foster and his old Pappy

Fulbright scholar Foster and his old Pappy

Picking and grinning with geologist daughter Ellen

Picking and grinning with geologist daughter Ellen

They have been playing together since they were little tykes and by now they are pretty good indeed.

Alas, we are not musicians in our family. My children did participate in band in middle school and two into high school, but none of them ultimately continued on with the clarinet, flute or violin. They all sang in the choir as well, but only the boy went on into high school with that. (He put the kobash on a Broadway career, because he thought it would be embarrassing.) I have encouraged him to re-join the adult choir at church, but, for now, that is but a pipe dream of his mother’s. Sigh.

We do not play board games in our family either. We tried that when the children were young, but the boy became hysterical when he lost, so we had to abandon games and we never went back for them. I have never been a game person myself–too many rules to learn.

But we have done plenty of playing I think. And by that I mean talking. We watch movies together and talk about them. Some families go hunting together or ski or fish. Some cook or hike. Or shop. Whatever.

It is the “together” that is important and not what you do I think. What do you do together as a family?

You know something, Wally? I’d rather do nothin’ with you than somethin’ with anybody else.
–Theodore “Beaver” Cleaver

Have no anxiety about anything*

by chuckofish

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I think this will be my mantra for 2014. It is a good mantra.

“Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”
― Corrie ten Boom

Be strong! Have a great day.

*Philippians 4:6