Vicki Lane's Blog, page 73

Seen Around

 

Josie Journals

                                                                                  

Guess what! I have a journal and I am writing in it.

I wrote without anyone helping me spell. Meema said some of the words weren't just right, but they were good enough that she could tell what I meant. I think that should be good enough. 

Meema said that the more I read on my own, the easier the right spelling would be. We'll see.
This is a Very Good library book that Meema and I read together. It is about a little girl who finds out she can do something that some kids say she can't. It is a great story with good pictures. 
And this is a picture I did of a rainbow winged Alicorn. (The paper got a little crumpled.)

Moon Magic

 

Three Pears

                                                                              

This is just to say:I have laid delicate slices of those fragrant pearsOn tender green leaves of lettuce and arugula,Sent a drift of gorgonzola over their melting tenderness,Anointed the union with a drizzle of virgin olive oilAnd a sprinkle of white balsamic vinegar.A riot of toasted pecans finishes the salad.
So cool, so sweet, so crunchyThat it is consumed before I rememberTo take a picture

Josie at Work

                                                                            

This was Josie's own idea. She asked me a bunch of questions about what I liked and then wrote down the answers. Her spelling is a tad idiosyncratic, and she reverses some letters now and then.

                                                         

Favorite food-Bread; favorite animal-dogs; favorite thing to do-reading; favorite place-farm; favorite person-Josie; favorite plant-lavender; favorite place to spend time-home; favorite drink-water; favorite season-spring; favorite insect-spiders; favorite color-green; favorite shape-spiral; favorite piece of furniture-chair.

I'm wondering if this was inspired by her teacher or someone encouraging children to reach out to their elderly relatives. 

I love how she spelled spider.

                                                     

Speaking of idiosyncratic, check out these trees,And note the division between the sky and the sun.

This sky/sun thing is a new trend in her art.

A Trip to Russka

                                                                              

This has been on our shelf, next to LONDON and SARUM, both of which I'd read and enjoyed, being an Anglophile of long standing. But RUSSKA. . .well, having struggled in the past through Russian novels that required me to keep a running list of the various names, nicknames, and patronymics, somehow, I just continued to ignore this doorstopper (almost a thousand pages) of a book.
Until I didn't. And I really enjoyed it and learned so much about Russian history, from the earliest beginnings to the era of Stalin and a bit beyond. My favorite way to learn history.
Rutherfurd traces two families-one landowners, the other serfs--down through the years, (complete with a handy chart of family tree) showing the ups and downs of each while giving an overview of Russian politics, sociology, religion, and economics. This vast, sprawling country couldn't be contained in a smaller book.
I took it fairly slow and interspersed it with a bit of lighter reading, actually, re-reading--Sharyn McCrumb's earlier Elizabeth MacPherson novels. At the same time, I was toggling between two audiobooks--SENSE AND SENSIBILITY (nowhere near as good as PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, though it has its moments) and a continuing re-listen to O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin wonderful series, read by the perfect reader, Parick Tull.
What a delight to leap from a Russian village on the edge of the steppes to a tourist's eye view of modern Scotland to prim and proper Regency England to battles at sea and intrigue in Malta during the Napoleonic era and back to aristocratic life in old St Petersburg! 
Books are such a great way to travel.

WIth a Thankful Sigh of Relief

                                                                                       

It was a grand day from the starters to the desserts, including a rather special cake made by Josie, Grandma Nancy serving a sous chef.                                                                                             

Alas, I didn't take any pictures of the feast. But it was delicious and memorable, with contributions from all.

                                                   

 I've been getting ready since Monday. In fact, I was so beforehand that, aside from putting the turkey in the oven early in the morning, I didn't have much to do, foodwise, till around 11:30. 

 John and Justin, meanwhile, were in a whirlwind of vacuuming and moving furniture so we could have a big table in the middle of the living room.                                                      

                                   It was a lovely day and when it was over, John and Justin did dishes and returned the furniture to where it belonged.

Looking at the restored living room where 11 of us had so recently been gathered around a table covered with Thanksgiving fare and bottles of bubbly, John said that the day almost could have been a dream.

And so it was.

Now, in response to Gwen's request for the Huguenot Torte recipe, half of which was shown in my post about the pumpkin pie, here's the full thing. I have to say I've never made it, but it does sound good.   

Maybe in a month or so I'll be hungry again.                                                  

                                                       

    

Happy Thanksgiving!

                                                                               

Game On!

                                                                                    

Yesterday I braved the grocery store for more Thanksgiving provisions and as I was pushing the buggy out to my car, a cheerful woman with her own buggy loaded ccalled out, "Well, we got one hard part done!"

"Yep, " I replied, "now for the cooking."                                                       

                                 

Her car was next to mine and after she returned her buggy to the corral, she came over and just started handing me the bags I was loading into my car. "Makes it a little easier with someone handing them to you," she said. And it did,

                                              

When we were done, I thanked her profusely and wished her a Happy Thanksgiving.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too," she said, "And Merry Christmas. I'm not politically correct."

"Well, Merry Christmas to you!" I replied. "And a Happy Hannukah, and Kawanza, and everything else! "

I kinda felt like I'd been visited by the Spirit of Thanksgiving.

                                                                                   

                                                                                  

                                

Thinking of Duns Scotus

                                                                                       

2 something am. Jenny jumps on the bed, waking me up. She doesn't seem to want to go out, and she snuggles down next to me. As I lie there waiting to go back to sleep, the name Duns Scotus floats into the magpie horde of trivia that passes for my mind. 

Some sort of theologian, I seem to remember. And presumably from Scotland. I make a mental note to Google the name in the morning.

And then I think of dunce cap--that conical badge of shame used in schools long ago for under-achieving students. 

Could there be a connection, I wonder?

And why am I thinking these random and esoteric thoughts at dark-thirty? 

The next morning, I do indeed Google Duns Scotus (b.1265 or 1266) and learn that he, and later his followers. wore those pointy hats in the belief that the shape would funnel knowledge from the outside world into the brain. Whether he was inspired by the headgear of wizards or vice versa isn't clear. But before the Rennaissance, the 'duns cap' was the sign of a deep thinker.

Come the Rennaissance and newer ways of thinking and the duns cap was transmogrified into the mark of one far behind the times--a dummy, a dunce.

It's possible I once knew the basic outlines of this correlation but one of the nice things about lost memories is that one has the pleasure of new discovery all over again.

There's more about John Duns Scotus and the use of the dunce cap HERE