Random Thoughts, with clouds

Love that glowing spot that looks like lava: those slow-flowing crackly black parts with the red showing through

• I have discovered a lovely prescription for that most absorbing and unending of tasks, meal planning and preparation. It is simply this. I only ask myself to reach one (1) of the following ideals: Nourishing, Inexpensive, Quick. If I get two of those, wonderful; it's a good day and I can be extremely proud of myself. Getting all three is basically unattainable so I don't even worry about it. (I'm sure there are meals that satisfy all three requirements, but setting that up as my standard was proving to be paralyzing.)

• I found great truth in this quote from Thomas Sowell:

“Each new generation born is in effect an invasion of civilization by little barbarians, who must be civilized before it is too late.”

I mean, first of all: yes! Barbarians, every last one of them! Where they get the ideas to do some of the things they do, I am at a loss to explain! But more seriously, these talks get at the problem of how to go about bringing up our children in light and truth: this one, and this one. Both very good.

• I've had trouble with the word "enmity" for some time now…thinking it's "emnity." I should be able to remember, because enmity starts just like enemy, but I guess the -mity ending throws me off; I think it should be -nity like eternity. Anyway, a similar word I didn't even know I was having trouble with: remuneration! It has to do with paying someone, so I just assumed the root was numer as in number or counting; like enumerate. But I guess it's not. The -mun root (I learned) comes from the Latin muner, to give. Thus: reMUNERation, not reNUMERation.

• I learned that, by the way, while listening to my favorite audiobook series of all time: P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves books read by Jonathan Cecil. (You really can't go wrong, but this is an excellent one, as is this.) Jonathan Cecil said "re-MUN-eration" very clearly in his lovely accent, and I thought, "Wait, he said that wrong—but Jonathan Cecil cannot be wrong!" So I looked it up and he was right, of course. Anyway, if you haven't read these books, you owe it to yourself to remedy that. They're among the funniest stories of all time. And having them read TO you, in a variety of impeccable British accents, is a pleasure not often paralleled in this fallen world of ours. Sam and I like to take them on long car trips and guffaw our way through the hours.

• I may have mentioned before how much I dislike writing in a conventional journal. It's not the cataloguing of daily life I object to; it's how I do it that I hate. (It's one reason I started this blog, in fact: when I have even the possibility of a real audience, I am forced to confront my own lazy, sappy, sloppy writing and see it for what it is. And eliminate some of it, hopefully.) (While I'm off on parenthetical asides, I'll also mention that this 5-year journal has worked well for me too. No room for sentiment!)  At any rate, this blog post captured my own feelings perfectly:

"This should be the year I scan all my old diaries from college and throw out most of them. I wince when I read them, for every possible reason. The writing. The concerns. The politics. The well-ordered and endless parade of delusions. How you can lie to yourself in your own diaries is a subject for study; surely I’m not the only one. This is what I should feel, therefore I’m going to say I feel it. 

Yes! It's depressing. And a good reminder that even if you have what historians consider a good "primary source" document (someone's journal, a letter, etc) you have nothing like the whole story. I can't even correctly record, let alone explain, my own feelings sometimes! And that's assuming I'm not misrepresenting them, knowingly or unknowingly, for some reason.

• Speaking of everyday life, I sometimes wonder how similar my everyday life is to my mom's life, or my Nana's. (And this is where I have to admit that yes, I would like to read a journal of theirs, no matter how badly written. But saying to myself, when writing a journal, that "my posterity will want to read this someday," just makes me WORSE.) The work of caring for homes and children has many constants, but then again, so much has changed! Still, there are some things that make me feel like I have truly joined the ancient sisterhood of Women. Braiding hair. Hemming things. Rolling out pie crust. Hanging clothes on the clothesline. I like it.

• From the sign at our local hospital, almost a sort of slogan, like "Got Milk?" But instead: "Chronic Wounds?" Strikes me as a strange thing to lead with. But I suppose I may be shortchanging the masses driving by, weeping with relief: "Yes! Yes! I have them! Please, tell me how to proceed?"