Uncategorized | dual personalities

Richard II (6 January 1367 – ca. 14 February 1400) was King of England from 1377 until he was deposed in 1399. Richard, a son of Edward, the Black Prince, was born during the reign of his grandfather, Edward III. Richard was the younger brother of Edward of Angoulême; upon the death of this elder brother, Richard—at four years of age—became second in line to the throne after his father. Upon the death of Richard’s father prior to the death of Edward III, Richard, by agnatic succession, became the first in line for the throne. With Edward III’s death the following year, Richard succeeded to the throne at the age of ten. (Read more about him here.)

If you are wondering why you are reading about Richard II, it is because today is the anniversary of his coronation in 1377. Huzzah! The history major in me likes to remind you of these important facts which I fear you may have forgotten. (I had.) And I am always happy to dig out a good Shakespeare quote, especially this one, which conjures up images, not of Sir John Gielgud and Derek Jacobi, but of Leslie Howard as the Scarlet Pimpernel!

“This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle,
This earth of majesty,
this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,–
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.”

― William Shakespeare, Richard II, Act 2, Scene 1

You remember Leslie Howard at the end of the movie, reciting these lines to Raymond Massey, don’t you?

You felt that he meant every word and he did. No one loved England more than he. He proved it a few years later by dying for his country during WWII. (I blogged about that previously here.)

Well, this post is further proof that I can bring just about any reference around to a movie. Who, sir? Me, sir? Yes, sir. You, sir.

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July 15, 2013

Allons enfants de la Patrie

by chuckofish

Yesterday was Bastille Day. Did you remember? While the date is the same as that of the storming of the Bastille, July 14 was chosen to commemorate the 1790 Fête de la Fédération, celebrating the uprising of the short-lived constitutional monarchy in France and what people considered the happy conclusion of the French Revolution.

I am no francophile, despite my French-Canadian great-great grandfather (the mysterious Fabian Blais) and an enduring admiration for Gerard Depardieu,

but I thought we would all enjoy this rousing scene from Casablanca.

Also I have been reading the latest novel by my favorite French mystery writer, Fred Vargas. (Fred Vargas is the pseudonym of the French historian, archaeologist and writer Frédérique Audoin-Rouzeau.)

The Ghost Riders of Ordebec is really good! Her mysteries are character driven, not plot driven, which is the way I like them. They are not police procedurals. If you have not read any books by Fred Vargas, I suggest you start with her first Commissaire Adamsberg mystery– L’Homme aux cercles bleus (English title: The Chalk Circle Man). You are in for a treat!

My weekend was a pleasant one. My Episcopal Souffle was a success and dinner on Friday with my compadres was fun per usual.

I went to several estate sales and bought a few embroidered hand towels and a set of fabric napkins, which you can buy for a few dollars and are usually new, having been put away in a drawer somewhere and never used. They are out of fashion, but I love them–and I use them!

I worked in the yard, which was hot work, but satisfying. I always feel close to my mother when I toil in the yard, because she used to do so year after year. She frequently had dirty knees because she always wore skirts!

I watched the movie Quartet, directed by Dustin Hoffman, and starring Maggie Smith, Tom Courtenay and Billy Connelly.

The movie takes place at a home for retired musicians, where the annual concert to celebrate Verdi’s birthday is disrupted by the arrival of Jean, an eternal diva and the former wife of one of the residents. It was filmed at some beautiful house in Buckinghamshire. I enjoyed it and the setting was lovely. Good music too.

And now it is Monday and it’s back to the salt mines!

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July 13, 2013

Bright lights, big (hot, crowded) city

by chuckofish

It’s hard to believe that just a week ago we were arriving in London after a delightful stay in Devon. As cities go London is really quite nice, but truth be told I much prefer the countryside. Cities have way too many people, who all seem to be going to the same places I am. But let’s concentrate on the good stuff like the British Museum

Before the hordes of tourists arrive

where we saw the fabulous Pompeii and Herculaneum exhibit and where I spent the bulk of two days studying my Assyrians.

see how he uses his shield?

We went to the theater and saw “The 39 Steps” which the incredibly clever staging made truly delightful.

Though it was a comedy, they stuck to the original story very well and I was not offended on John Buchan’s behalf.

We also went to the Royal Albert Hall to see Verdi’s “Requiem” performed by four soloists and a chorus of over two thousand (yes, two thousand).

What a place! Since it was a super hot day (maybe 81) and since London doesn’t really do air-conditioning, they moved us from our boiling seats in the upper tier to the pleasantly cool second row, where the view was perfect.

On our last night, we went to the British Film Institute for their retrospective screening of Werner Herzog’s “Fitzcarraldo”. It was an unusually nice film-going experience: no one talked or rattled wrappers and the seats were really comfy.

We enjoyed good pub food

the Marlborough Arms

and we did a lot of walking…

looking up the Thames from the middle of a bridge

walking across the Thames to the BFI

Sometimes we rode the jam-packed, incredibly hot Underground. No kidding, it was the stuff of nightmares for yours truly, the people/claustrophobe. By the end of the day we all needed refreshment a stiff drink)!

at the bar in our hotel

Honestly, though, there’s no place like home. I’m all traveled out — especially since I had one day of jet-lag recovery before driving off to Vermont with Tim for his college orientation. I cannot tell you how nice it was to sleep in my own bed last night!

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July 12, 2013

T.G.I.F.

by chuckofish

This is my first full 5-day work week since I had a vacation week followed by a short holiday week.

I’m not complaining, but I am ready for the weekend, aren’t you?

I am having a few friends over tonight for “Episcopal Souffle”. One friend is bringing her “Holy Spirit Salad”; another will bring bread and another dessert. Add wine. Voila: dinner! Easy-peasy.

Here is the hymn “Come Labor On” (Ora Labora) at St. Thomas Church, Fifth Avenue which includes an improvisation by Gerre Hancock (1934-2012), Organist & Master of Choirsters at St. Thomas Church, for all you organ fans. Perhaps you could argue that this hymn is more appropriate for Monday, but I think it works for the end of the work week. (Also note that yesterday was the feast day of St. Benedict who drew up the Rule of Life: Ora et Labora.)

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July 11, 2013

Into each life some rain must fall

by chuckofish

I was talking to daughter #1 yesterday–I was at work and she was walking down Columbus Avenue on her way to work in New York City. It started to rain and she had to run. There were no toadstools to wait under.

AP photo

It was rainy as well in my flyover town, and I was reminded of this poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882).

The Rainy Day

THE DAY is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

But you know, the sun always comes out again…and the tiger lilies are blooming!

Who can be sad for long when these wonderful flowers are blooming in our backyard and all along flyover byways?

July 10, 2013

Where are you, my little object of art?

by chuckofish

“She’s beautiful,’ he murmured.
‘She’s a metre across the hips, easily,’ said Julia.
‘That is her style of beauty,’ said Winston.”

― George Orwell, 1984

I have a Metropolitan Museum of Art day-by-day calendar in my bathroom. Every day there is a new art work to view. This piece of ancient Arabian sculpture appeared the other day and I couldn’t help thinking that she looks familiar. Oh, yes, I see her in the mirror every day!

Well, all I have to say is that I totally agree with George Eliot: “It’s an uncommonly dangerous thing to be left without any padding against the shafts of disease.” (Middlemarch: A Study of Provincial Life)

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July 9, 2013

I learn something new every day

by chuckofish

“Never grow a wishbone, Daughter, where your backbone ought to be.”

–Clementine Paddleford

I read this quote on a blog (of course) and then looked up Clementine Paddleford on Wikipedia to see if she was a real person. Well, yes, she was a real person.

Clementine Paddleford (September 27, 1898 – November 13, 1967) was an American food writer active from the 1920s through the 1960s, writing for several publications, including the New York Herald Tribune, the New York Sun, The New York Telegram, Farm and Fireside, and This Week magazine. She was born in Stockdale, Riley County, Kansas and graduated from Kansas State University in 1921 with a degree in journalism. She then studied at New York University’s school of journalism and lived most of her life in New York City, where she introduced her readers to the global range of food to be found in that city. She was also a pilot, and flew a Piper Cub around the country to report on America’s many regional cuisines.

Paddleford’s book How America Eats, published in 1960, was the culmination of her career.

It was eclipsed, however by The New York Times Cookbook by Craig Claiborne, published in 1961, and Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Mesdames Beck, Bertholle and Julia Child the same year.

The afore-quoted admonition, although attributed to Clementine Paddleford, actually was something her mother used to say to her (according to her memoir called “A Flower for My Mother.”) I’m sure they both were fascinating women.

You can read all about Clementine here in The New York Times. I must say I was glad to discover her.

The world is more than we know.

4 Comments

July 8, 2013

The harvest is plentiful

by chuckofish

How was your weekend?

Mine was very quiet and I was able to catch up with all the loose ends in my household. Laundry, groceries, dusting, mulch-spreading, etc. I also read in church on Sunday–another good St. Paul finger-shaker: “God is not mocked” (Galatians 6:7–16). Good stuff. We also got to sing 2 patriotic hymns:
“America” and “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”.

The sermon was about the Gospel lesson (Luke 10:1-11, 16–20) and Jesus sending out the disciples in pairs to spread the good news. There were a couple of digs at the Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses–of course we would look down on their success! We were encouraged to be friendly etc. Yeah, right.

All in all, however, it was a very satisfying service. How often is it even possible for me to say that? So thank you, Lord, from the bottom of my heart.

The boy and his bride came over for dinner.

They took our lawn mower back over to their new house. And some big clippers. Ah, I remember when we use to do that!

I watched Of Gods and Men, an excellent French film directed by Xavier Beauvois, starring Lambert Wilson and Michael Lonsdale.

Based on the true story of seven French Trappist monks from the monastery of Tibhirine, Algeria, who were kidnapped in 1996 and found beheaded. The Armed Islamic Group of Algeria claimed full responsibility for the incident. It won the Grand Prix at the 2010 Cannes Film Festival, but wasn’t even nominated for the Best Foreign Film Oscar that year. Amazing.

I also watched The Thomas Crown Affair (1968) with Steve McQueen.

Steve McQueen as a Dartmouth man

Not really one of my favorites–it’s overly and self-consciously “stylish”–but it’s always worth a look at Steve in those famous Persol shades.

There are also some fine glimpses into familiar Boston locales, such as

Copps Hill Cemetery where Increase and Cotton Mather are buried along with other notable Puritans.

Thomas Crown lived in the 2nd Harrison Gray Otis House, built by Charles Bulfinch, located at 85 Mount Vernon Street on Beacon Hill. Very nice.*

I seem to remember that my parents got a kick out of all the Boston locales back when they went to see it in 1968–their old stomping grounds.

*(Please note that the 1999 remake with Pierce Brosnan took place in New York City and Crown is no longer a Boston Brahmin and Dartmouth man, but a self-made rich guy. I wonder if this is because movie-makers assume the movie-going public no longer knows/cares what a Boston Brahmin is and what the heck Dartmouth is. Movie goers just wouldn’t “get” it? Phooey.)

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July 5, 2013

Speaking of teacups

by chuckofish

“Your great-great-great-great-grandmother had these cups, when she was married,” said Hepzibah to Phoebe. “She was a Davenport, of a good family. They were almost the first teacups ever seen in the colony; and if one of them were to be broken, my heart would break with it. But it is nonsense to speak so about a brittle teacup, when I remember what my heart has gone through without breaking.”

I had no plans for the 4th of July, so I finished reading The House of Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne, which I had started (prompted by daughter #2) while on my vacation in Florida. What a great way to spend a good chunk of a day off! It is, indeed, a luxury to be able to read, uninterrupted, for any length of time during the daytime hours when one is a working person who normally crawls into bed exhausted quite early.

I must say, I agree with daughter #2 that old Nathaniel Hawthorne is wonderful and should not be relegated to the reading lists of bored high schoolers.

Published in 1851, the same year as Moby-Dick, The House of Seven Gables explores themes of guilt, retribution, and atonement in a New England family and includes supernatural aspects and witchcraft.

I wonder what Dean and Sam would think of it?

But I digress…The story was inspired by a gabled house in Salem belonging to Hawthorne’s cousin Susanna Ingersoll and by those of Hawthorne’s ancestors who played a part in the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Since we are descendants of one of the teenage girls who was a chief accuser in those same trials (Ann Putnam), I can relate.

It is extremely readable and modern in its approach and organization. I was impressed and will read more Hawthorne! How did I miss him in all my years of reading?

Now I am going to read Fred Vargas’ newest Commissaire Adamsberg mystery The Ghost Riders of Ordebec. If you are not acquainted with Fred Vargas, you should be. I am not a big fan of mysteries, but I like her very much.

I also framed a Florida memory in an estate sale frame

and hung it on my office wall.

Well, it’s the little things in life that make us the most happy, right? That and fireworks on the levee!

3 Comments

Quote | July 4, 2013

I am an American

by chuckofish

“I am an American; free born and free bred, where I acknowledge no man as my superior, except for his own worth, or as my inferior, except for his own demerit.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

Have a great 4th of July–celebrate responsibly! Read some Emerson!

Concord Hymn

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare,
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

And last but not least…Happy Birthday to our dear brother!

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dual personalities

Category: Uncategorized

July 16, 2013

This other Eden

by chuckofish

July 15, 2013

Allons enfants de la Patrie

by chuckofish

July 13, 2013

Bright lights, big (hot, crowded) city

by chuckofish

July 12, 2013

T.G.I.F.

by chuckofish

July 11, 2013

Into each life some rain must fall

by chuckofish

July 10, 2013

Where are you, my little object of art?

by chuckofish

July 9, 2013

I learn something new every day

by chuckofish

July 8, 2013

The harvest is plentiful

by chuckofish

July 5, 2013

Speaking of teacups

by chuckofish

Quote | July 4, 2013

I am an American

by chuckofish