dual personalities

One of the real joys of life is learning new things. This week I learned all about ancient glassmaking and was amazed to discover some of the wonderful objects that have survived. Glassmaking didn’t really take off until the 1st century BC when some smart bloke invented the art of glassblowing. Until then they made pretty, but rather clunky, glass bottles by working them around a clay/dung core and then scraping out the core afterward. Core-formed glasswork is believed to have developed in the Near East sometime around the 16th century BC. Here’s an example of core-formed glass from Syria.

The design comes from adding spirals of colored glass and then raking them to create the pattern. It’s certainly pretty and represents a major technological advancement, but when compared to blown glass, well, it looks more like something you’d buy at a garage sale on the table marked “shabby chic”. Look at this 1st century BC Cantharus from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and you’ll see what I mean.

Sometimes glassmakers used molds to create beautiful designs. A Roman master named Ennion, working in the early first century AD, achieved the highest level of the art. Here’s an example of his work from the Corning Museum of Glass (which is now high on my bucket list of places to visit!).

And here’s another of Ennion’s works from the Met just to prove that cobalt blue wasn’t the only color they used. It’s just my favorite.

By the late Roman Empire, in the 4th and 5th centuries AD glassmaking had reached its apogee; the cage-cup (diatretum) represents the extremes to which glassmakers would go for their art. Here’s a 4th century AD example from the Heritage museum Pljevja, Montenegro.

As I understand it, cage-cups were made by pouring two layers of (often) different colored glass together and then carving — yes, carving — the outer one into a delicate cage. One slip would ruin the whole thing. They often finished the cup off with a phrase carved along the top.

Of course, the marvel isn’t just that the ancients could make such gorgeous pieces but that so many survived largely intact. I wonder what, if any, of our belongings will still be around in two thousand years? Take a look around your abode and think about it. I know I will.

In the meantime, I hope you can enjoy a beautiful fall weekend!

*Anton Checkov

4 months — can you believe it? I think that means we’ve had a pandemic-baby longer than we had a pandemic-pregnancy. Ye gods.

I do not have a whole lot of news this week, which actually feels like a good thing: Katiebelle has settled into a real routine! We are happy to know all her little cues and how to respond them.

The little babe does continue to grow bigger and bigger, and even graduated to the actual stroller seat (as opposed to the car seat, which can click into the stroller). She was thrilled to have the wiggle room and improved view of her parents and surroundings. (No way am I ready for her to face out yet!)

We are also endlessly amused by her facial expressions — Katie must take after her cousin Lottie.

She is hardcore judging us. Here’s hoping the weekend feels less like that, and more like this:

I’m working from home in the afternoon for the rest of the week because October is going to be a busy, busy month. And let me tell you, I’m sitting here in my quiet sunroom and it is delightful. I also took a walk and reacquainted myself with my old friend, the river.

It is rather low these days. Don’t worry, I am planning an outdoor press conference on Monday so I’m sure Mid-MO will get some rain. Your plants can thank me.

All of the sudden it is Fall. The air is cool. And the light has changed. I have forgotten what it is like to need a jacket. I’m not complaining. Even if what used to be an oversized-sweatshirt is now appropriately sized.

This week I finished my little witch Halloween decoration. I’m not super into Halloween but for some reason I just liked this little witch. I stitched her almost entirely while participating in endless conference calls. The back is an orange gingham. I might add some cording around the edge–TBD.

As my mother mentioned, we continued working on the basement and foolishly went to an estate sale and bought more books. It seems that each Sunday when I return to my apartment, I have many, many trips from the car to make as I haul in my finds. If I were to ever write a memoir the title would either be:

I Need A Plate Stand

or

Where Can I Fit Another Bookshelf?

It’s a real problem. But somehow I struggle on.

*from a story Marty Stuart tells in this video.

“He eats lions for breakfast, and leopards for lunch, and gobbles them down with one terrible crunch. He could mix a whole city all up in a mess, he could drink up a sea or an ocean, I guess.”*

Well, it’s Terrible Tim’s birthday today and the mischievous lad is turning 25! Obviously, he’s long over nursery rhymes, so pardon my sentimentality, but it is a little mind-blowing that my youngest has achieved this milestone already — time’s winged feet and all that. I am happy to say that he has not lost the twinkle in his eye or his sense — like Scaramouche — that the world is mad. Here’s hoping that this year brings him all manner of happy adventures and blessings!

The rhyme quoted above seemed fitting not only for the name mentioned, but because it reminded me of tongue twisters and they reminded me that the DH and I spent last evening lost down the rabbit hole of odd pronunciations. The way humans torture words into sounding completely different from their spellings is mystifying to say the least. Consider, for example, the name Featherstonhaugh. Who, I ask you, would ever imagine that it is pronounced Fanshaw? Or what about the perfectly straightforward seeming Menzies? In Scotland the name is often pronounced Mingis (rhymes with sing)! Similarly, Talliofaroe becomes Tollifer, Wildboarclough becomes Wilbercluff and Dalziel is pronounced Dee-el. It’s almost as if the denizens of different countries do this on purpose to trick unsuspecting foreigners into making fools of themselves. Pronunciation is like a verbal secret handshake. Are you a member of the club or an ignorant plebe?

Everyone must grapple with this particular kind of diversity at some time or another. It can certainly be baffling and frustrating. My advice? Get interested and before you travel abroad (or, indeed, into parts of this country where people speak with a different accent) take the time to find out about how the locals pronounce their names.

Have a glorious weekend and if you can’t go out and have fun, stay home and learn something new!

*Mother Goose Rhyme

Baby Katie is 16 weeks old!

We celebrated by dressing her up in one of the dresses her great-grandmother made and comparing babe and mom (wearing the dress way back when). I am not fishing for “She looks just like you!” comments, but it is definitely sweet to see her in the same dress and maybe a hint of the same smile 🙂

I didn’t have any Zoom calls yesterday, so I took the time for a full-on photoshoot, complete with a fuzzy blanket covering a boppy for a makeshift set.

I need to work on better clearing the background of photos and avoiding the backlight from the balcony, but I do what I can. You can’t really go wrong with a baby that cute, right?

In other news, the temps have gotten chillier, which means we’ve busted out some baby sweaters. Here’s a hand-me-down getup with bunny ears:

Katie loves to pull hoods and hats down over her face. It’s very dramatic when the sun shines on her face and she seems to take the initiative to shade herself. “My perfect porcelain skin!”

Perfect, indeed!