dual personalities

Tag: quotes

August 15, 2016

In a gadda da vida, baby

by chuckofish

Weekends that follow a weekend when one of my daughters has visited are always a little sad. You know, she was here and we were doing that, and now she is not here.  And it was a rainy weekend to boot!

But I am not one to sit in a slough of despond, so I got busy. Since Gary is coming back this week to paint the living room and paper the dining room, I had to put away all the dishes in my china cabinet and pack up various shelves full of dishes etc. And there were also a lot of very dusty books to move. Good grief what a job!

IMG_2119

I suppose it is a good job to do every once in awhile (and should no doubt be done more frequently) in order to dust off the books and be reminded what we have!

I also got a new pair of Tom’s on sale which made me happy.

IMG_2118

I read the second lesson in church, a good long one from Hebrews (11:29–12:2) about how we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, something I believe in strongly. The Gospel was from Luke (12:49–56) where Jesus is at his politically-incorrect best, calling everyone a hypocrite and saying he “came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” Our lady priest reminded us that there is no room for compromise in the Gospel and that the sweet Jesus people like to imagine is a fiction. (I think Zooey had something to say about that to Franny.)

Our organist/choirmaster has been on vacation for several weeks and so the organist substitute was the lady who always reminds me of Helen Feesh on the Simpsons.

Helen

I mean seriously.

I left right after the service and got back to work taking down drapes (more dust) and such.

Over the weekend I read Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance, which my dual personality had recommended. Now I recommend it to you. Hard to put down.

FullSizeRender

In the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep I picked up a book by Eudora Welty and was reminded how really great she is.

It is our inward journey that leads us through time–forward or back, seldom in a straight line, most often spiraling. Each of us is moving, changing, with respect to others. As we discover, we remember; remembering, we discover; and  most intensely do we experience this when our separate journeys converge. Our living experience at those meeting points is one of the charged dramatic fields of fiction. (One Writer’s Beginnings)

Sigh. Now it is Monday and it’s back to the salt mines–have a good week!

8 Comments
August 11, 2016

Throwback Thursday

by chuckofish

Mary CC.jpeg

This picture of our mother circa 1930 at “The Farm” in New Hampshire should bring a smile to your face.

And we could all use that, right?

“I wish I could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that I hate to think they will be extinguished when I am. Well, but again, this life has its own mortal loveliness. And memory is not strictly mortal in its nature, either. It is a strange thing, after all, to be able to return to a moment, when it can hardly be said to have any reality at all, even in its passing. A moment is such a slight thing. I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve.”

―Marilynne Robinson, Gilead 

5 Comments
August 5, 2016

“Why do stars fall down from the sky Every time you walk by?”*

by chuckofish

SCC and NU

Daughter #2 and Nate arrive today for a long weekend of celebrating in flyover country. We even have tickets to the Cardinals game on Monday night! It’s my flyover university’s first ever Night at the Ballpark–should be very interesting.

78fcea867ec30062aa68046beced5667

I hope Fred Bird makes an appearance and that he dances with our chancellor! I mean, how great would that be?

The weather isn’t even going to be that bad.

Screen Shot 2016-08-04 at 11.19.55 AM

Meanwhile my friend Gary has finished stripping the wallpaper off the front hall, stairway and upstairs hall and painting it all. It looks fantastic. He even hung up my pictures so the OM would not have to engage in a battle of hammering to do so.

IMG_2098

IMG_2097

IMG_2096

I will also note that Saturday is the birthday of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892), Poet Laureate of Great Britain. You might spend some time this weekend brushing up on your Tennyson poetry. It is pretty great. Here’s a section of “Ulysses” to get you started:

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

Go ahead: follow knowledge like a sinking star! Shine in use! Use it or lose it! Have a good weekend!

*The Carpenters, “Close to You”

4 Comments
August 3, 2016

“Art is long and life is short, and success is very far off.”*

by chuckofish

Polska_Gdynia_skwerKosciuszki_002

The last word is not said, — probably shall never be said. Are not our lives too short for that full utterance which through all our stammerings is of course our only and abiding intention? I have given up expecting those last words, whose ring, if they could only be pronounced, would shake both heaven and earth. There is never time to say our last word — the last word of our love, of our desire, faith, remorse, submissions, revolt. The heaven and the earth must not be shaken, I suppose — at least, not by us who know so many truths about either. My last words about Jim shall be few. I affirm he had achieved greatness; but the thing would be dwarfed in the telling, or rather in the hearing. Frankly, it is not my words that I mistrust but your minds. I could be eloquent were I not afraid you fellows had starved your imaginations to feed your bodies. I do not mean to be offensive; it is respectable to have no illusions — and safe — and profitable — and dull. Yet you, too, in your time must have known the intensity of life, that light of glamour created in the shock of trifles, as amazing as the glow of sparks struck from a cold stone — and as short-lived, alas! (Lord Jim)

Ninety-two years ago today Joseph Conrad died. Although it is fashionable to call him a racist these days, I have always liked Conrad’s books. Also, some good movies have been made based on them. One film I especially like is Swept From the Sea (1997) based on the short story “Amy Foster”.

SWEPT FROM THE SEA, Vincent Perez, Rachel Weisz, 1997. © TriStar

It stars Rachel Weisz, Ian McKellen, the always appealing Vincent Perez, and the windswept coast of England. The story is emblematic of the author’s lonely life as an exile, so probably a good choice to watch tonight (or at least add to the list you are keeping of movies to watch at a later date.)

*Joseph Conrad, The Nigger of the ‘Narcissus’

The picture at the top of the page is the anchor-shaped Conrad monument at Gdynia, on Poland’s Baltic Seacoast.

1 Comment
July 28, 2016

Thursday thought for the day

by chuckofish

5e80e989b75658021579e3de4a3658fa

…and a prayer from Christina Rossetti:

O Lord, whose way is perfect: Help us, we pray thee, always to trust in thy goodness; that walking with thee in faith, and following thee in all simplicity, we may possess quiet and contented minds, and cast all our care on thee, because thou carest for us; for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.

3 Comments
July 25, 2016

Weekend update

by chuckofish

“Saturday morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young, the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom, and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with vegetation, and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting.” *

IMG_2080

Happiness is road-tripping with your BFFs in your home state and stopping at every antique mall along the way.

FullSizeRender.jpg

This past weekend we journeyed to historic Arrow Rock, MO. We stopped for lunch in historic Boonville and also in historic Blackwater.

IMG_2082.JPG

What, you ask, makes them historic? Well, they’re old and there is probably some link to the Santa Fe Trail or a Civil War engagement. To some people they are just old river towns that have seen better days. But I like them.

The whole town of Arrow Rock is on the historic register. It is truly lovely, lush and green and well cared for. There are some wonderful old buildings.

IMG_2086.JPG

The theater there seems to support the town and its bed and breakfasts, restaurants and shops.

IMG_2083.JPG

It is a booming place during the theater season. We bought our tickets back in March when tickets first went on sale. (They sell out fast!) We made our B&B reservations in April and got the last room in town (practically).

As usual, I came prepared for a late afternoon pick-me-up.

IMG_2085.JPG

Fun fact about Arrow Rock: In 1973, a musical version of Mark Twain’s “Tom Sawyer” was filmed here. It starred Johnny Whitaker as Tom, Jeff East as Huck, Celeste Holm as Aunt Polly, Warren Oates as Muff Potter, and Jody Foster in her third movie as Becky Thatcher. Supposedly, many of the town’s buildings and landscapes are recognizable in the film. I saw the movie back in 1973, but I guess I will have to check it out.

tom_sawyer

The OM, who does not enjoy the above activities, spent a quiet 36 hours home alone, ordering pizza and watching Nascar. At least that’s what he told me.

Our electricity went out Sunday night–it was 100-degrees outside–but it came back on after a couple of hours. Thunder and lightening followed. Now it is Monday and it’s back to the salt mines. Have a good week!

*Mark Twain, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

7 Comments
July 18, 2016

“Let the trees of the forest sing”*

by chuckofish

IMG_2070

When I got to church on Sunday I saw that two huge oak trees had been blown down in last Wednesday’s big storm. The branches had been moved out of the driveway, but the huge trunk with its root ball still remained.

IMG_2075

During the announcements our rector told us that the pastor of the St. Louis Family Church, a very large evangelical church in west county, had called him the next day and said he would send people out to move the downed trees asap. This is part of their emergency storm relief mission. Our rector said, “Thank you!” The motto of this church is “Honor God. Help people.” I was surprised, impressed and the news made me feel very happy.  This must be a very busy week for those volunteers.

I did quite a lot of work in our own yard on Saturday–cleaning up from the storm. I filled five bags with detritus.

IMG_2077

The boy came over with some loppers and he and the OM cut up the big branches and filled a bag too.  What a storm! I was actually driving home when it hit and it was very scary indeed. I was afraid a tree would fall on my little car and I would be squished. Zut alors! was I glad to get home.

In other news, we celebrated the OM’s birthday with the boy and daughter #3 at a restaurant down in Lafayette Square in the city–We are so adventurous!

IMG_2062

IMG_2066

I couldn’t be in this picture, because I didn’t get the memo about wearing blue!

Also, the boy got his first penalty in a hockey game and also  made his first shot on goal. Onward and upward.

We watched a terrible movie: Hail, Caesar! (2016), the Coen brothers send-up of Hollywood in the 1950’s. Even Channing Tatum couldn’t salvage this mess. Totally not funny.

I finished The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine, the 17th installment of the #1 Ladies Detective Agency books by Alexander McCall Smith. Although I find these books mildly irritating, I am a loyal reader and always ultimately enjoy them. Precious Romotswe is a great character after all.

[Clovis Anderson] wrote: Do not allow the profession of which you are a member to induce you to take a bleak view of humanity. You will encounter all sorts of bad behavior but do not judge everybody by the standards of the lowest. If you did that, he pointed out, you would misjudge humanity in general and that would be fatal to discerning judgement. If everybody is a villain, then nobody is a villain, he wrote. That simple expression had intrigued her, even if it was some time before its full meaning–and the wisdom that lay behind it–became apparent.

Wise words to ponder this week. Discuss among yourselves.

*1 Chronicles 16:33

8 Comments
July 13, 2016

Walking out the gate

by chuckofish

Did you know that National Simplicity Day was observed yesterday (July 12th) in Thoreau’s honor? I did not know this.

However, there are so many of these “unofficial” holidays, one can hardly be expected to keep track of them all.

Henry-David-Thoreau--close-

Poor Thoreau. I have no doubt that he would be totally non-plussed by his latter day popularity. I mean what would he think of everyone contemplating simplicity on a special day, and texting each other Thoreau memes on their iPhones? Oy.

I have to say, though, that I have given a lot of thought lately to this idea: “It is desirable that a man live in all respects so simply and preparedly that if an enemy take the town… he can walk out the gate empty-handed and without anxiety.” (Walden)

If an enemy took the town, I could do that. I have a lot of stuff, but it is just stuff.  I would take great-great-great-grandmother Hannah Patten’s sampler (out of the frame and rolled up) with me.

For now, I’m dealing with a typical flyover summer…

Screen Shot 2016-07-12 at 10.40.32 AM…and trying to keep cool.

4 Comments
July 12, 2016

Cherish your moodiness

by chuckofish

"Melancholy Promenade" by Diego Rivera, 1904

“Melancholy Promenade” by Diego Rivera, 1904

Now I yearn for one of those old, meandering, dry, uninhabited roads, which lead away from towns, which lead away from temptation, which conduct to the outside of earth, over its uppermost crust; where you may forget in what country you are travelling; where no farmer can complain that you are treading down his grass, no gentleman who has recently constructed a seat in the country that you are trespassing; on which you can go off half-cock and wave adieu to the village; along which you may travel like a pilgrim, going nowhither; where travellers are not too often to be met; where my spirit is free; where the walls and fences are not cared for, where your head is more in heaven than your feet on earth; which have long reaches where you can see the approaching traveller half a mile off and be prepared for him; not so luxuriant a soil as to attract men; some root and stump fences which do not need attention; where travellers have no occasion to stop, but pass along and leave you to your thoughts; where it makes no odds which way you face, whether you are going or coming; whether it is morning or evening, mid-noon or midnight; where earth is cheap enough by being public; where you can walk and think with least obstruction, there being nothing to measure progress by; where you can pace when your breast is full, and cherish your moodiness; where you are not in false relations with men, are not dining nor conversing with them; by which you may go to the uttermost parts of the earth.

–H.D. Thoreau, A Writer’s Journal

It is the birthday of Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862), so let’s celebrate by reading the longest sentence ever (see above) and having some alone-time in the out-of-doors.

Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh

Peder Monsted

Peder Mork Monsted

The Tree, 1861 John Milne Donald

“The Tree” by John Milne Donald, 1861

Cheers to Henry David Thoreau! Enjoy your Tuesday.

4 Comments
July 4, 2016

Some prouder pageantry

by chuckofish

chris 77

A toast to our brother, whose birthday we celebrate today! I’m sure he will be celebrating Thoreau-style.

The stillness was intense and almost conscious, as if it were a natural Sabbath, and we fancied that the morning was the evening of a celestial day. The air was so elastic and crystalline that it had the same effect on the landscape that a glass has on a picture, to give it an ideal remoteness and perfection. The landscape was clothed in a mild and quiet light, in which the woods and fences checkered and partitioned it with new regularity, and rough and uneven fields stretched away with lawn-like smoothness to the horizon, and the clouds, finely distinct and picturesque, seemed a fit drapery to hang over fairy-land. The world seemed decked for some holiday or prouder pageantry, with silken streamers flying, and the course of our lives to wind on before us like a green lane into a country maze, at the season when fruit-trees are in blossom.

Why should not our whole life and its scenery be actually thus fair and distinct? All our lives want a suitable background. They should at least, like the life of the anchorite, be as impressive to behold as objects in the desert, a broken shaft or crumbling mound against a limitless horizon. Character always secures for itself this advantage, and is thus distinct and unrelated to near or trivial objects, whether things or persons.

–from “A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers” by Henry David Thoreau

3 Comments