The Wind in the Willows

I have never seen this movie, I do not know if this quote is in it, but, if it is not, it should be:

“And beyond the Wild Wood again?” he asked: “Where it’s all blue and dim, and one sees what may be hills or perhaps they mayn’t, and something like the smoke of towns, or is it only cloud drift?”

“Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World,” said the Rat. “And that’s something that doesn’t matter, either to you or me. I’ve never been there, and I’m never going, nor you either, if you’ve got any sense at all. Don’t ever refer to it again, please. Now then! Here’s our backwater at last, where we’re going to lunch.”

I will first digress. I love this book. My well-read copy was acquired at a yard sale when I was a child. I have read it aloud countless times to my son and husband.

Illustration from the Wind in the Willows.One reason that I have not seen the movie is that my copy of this book has illustrations by Ernest Shepard and I do not want those delightful images over written or contaminated, even by Disney’s best. Another is that the book is sparsely illustrated and my imagination has filled in the gaps just fine, thank you very much. I do not want those images overwritten or contaminated either. Then there is the realest reason: Grahame was a genius at description, both of nature and of characters, there is no way for the medium of film to capture the subtlety, nuance and gentle humor that he brought to the stories.

Digression over. The reason why this quote sticks out is that it is gently ironic…most of the stories in the book take place in the Wild Wood and the Wide World. This interplay is one of the major tensions in world affairs today. If my backwater is wonderful then why should I worry about what is happening in Russia, China, the Middle East? Yet my story, all of our stories, connect through the Wild Wood and the Wide World.

Three women are sorting peas.Every place you go is someone’s backwater and can become yours. The most wonderful, life giving travel experiences are when you enter into the backwaters, and by enter I do not mean observe. Shell peas in the sun with people and you will always carry the feel of the warm sun, the joy of shared laughter (who cares if you don’t get the jokes or maybe even are the joke) and the sense of connection.

Even as we eat our lunch in our own backwaters, we connect with the Wide World. Our lunch might have tea from China, chocolate from Africa, cheese from Ireland, cherries from Oregon, wheat and apples from eastern Washington as well as homegrown tomatoes. We live in the Wide World and our backwater both.

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Silver Screen.”

I am Learning to “Use My Words”

I started this blog when I took a class in creating websites. I wanted to experiment with layout and techniques beyond the class assignments, so I needed to create some “content” to play with.

What I had easily available was my own life…but words do not come easily to me. Often my “story” is a sensation (touch, smell, taste, sound or picture) that triggers a feeling. How can I communicate that feeling?

Through blogging I have, slowly, been using photographs and words to try and learn to communicate the feelings and sometimes link them to a bigger idea. I think this is the essence of composition. So, though blogging, I am learning to compose. It is like quilting: you take a bit of this fabric and some of that and arrange and rearrange them until there is a sense of “yes!” Obviously, I am not an everyday, words-pour-out-easily sort of blogger,

Learning communication through composition isn’t something you ever finish. It cannot be done once and for all, so I need to keep at it and to take a look at how others approach the same themes. I didn’t know when I threw the first bit together, but that is what blogging is. So here am I, on the downhill slope of middle age learning to “use my words” with a picture here and there thrown in because words don’t always do it.

Claiming Joy

Life gets complicated, and often I see in the past the seeds of the bad stuff. I forget to see also the seeds of joy. Frankly, I had forgotten that my childhood was pretty happy. Today I spent several hours scanning my father’s slides to digital images, doing so I found myself confronting happiness.Mother with two children in swimming pool.

I come from a broken home and we have had our share of trials and tribulations, but before it broke, and even as it was breaking there was love and fun. Good things happened. People who wound up having difficulties and causing pain to one another were not always so.

Being analytic and having trained as an engineer, I am programmed to try to solve problems, to understand what is wrong and try to tweak things to make them better. That colors how I look at the past. I keep looking for what went wrong.

Seeing pictures of myself with my family having fun, the house I grew up with, and even my dad’s old blue pickup truck loaded down with lumber, sort of rubbed my nose in the happiness.
Going through the old pictures allows me to wallow for a bit in the joy, it belongs to me just as much as the other.

An old ford pickup truck loaded down with lumber.
The old, blue pickup.

Verinbrunalis

Winter blooming plant that smells good.Not very clever: it is Latin for “spring in winter”. It’s happening right now in Seattle. The news is full of blizzards, and for some that is marvelous (see post by Karyn here), but here the air is full of the scent of daphne odora  and “that plant that starts with an ‘s’, smells divine and blooms in January”.

two snowdrop flowers blooming in the moss.
Snowdrops in the moss.

The leaves and buds of bulbs are thrusting vigorously up through the mulch of partially decayed leaves…but winter is not necessarily over. This little party will end with a shift of the wind. In some ways that makes it all the more precious. For that reason it is also accompanied by a sense of urgency to get outside.

This differs from what we call the “pineapple express” which is warm but comes with a lot of rain.

Got to go and enjoy!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Play Lexicographer.”

 

Modern Communications-Is it QQ* Translate…or Chinese itself?

Being a mama means being there, even if you aren’t there. This morning I received this QQ* message from Emily, my son’s girl friend:

“mama,James, didn’t you call today, he felt a little worried. I told him, something the mama. If you have time, give him the phone number tomorrow.”

I am sure she typed it in cogent Chinese. It is the middle of the night in China right now so I have to cool my heels for several hours before I can get clarification.

This is not my first somewhat obscure message, I no longer panic that I cannot call right away. Instead I amuse myself during the waiting time by guessing what the message might mean.

The first message that comes through was unintentional on her part. When I tried to QQ and call James last night I didn’t get through. This message tells me clearly that James is fine (one time when I couldn’t get through he had been mugged and had his phone stolen).

The essence is that James was worried that I didn’t call yesterday.  However, since he could have QQ’d me himself, Emily may be more worried than he is.

“I told him, something the mama” is a bit puzzling. Was she worried that something is wrong or comforting him that I was busy doing something?

When I tried to learn some Chinese I noticed that they put an emphasis on different aspects of language than we do in English: for example, they do not pluralize nouns or use verb tenses. So a sentence can have both ambiguity about what the subject is (is it a generalization about dogs, or a statement about a particular dog or group of dogs) and when in time the action occurred (is the dog running now, did it run in the past, or will it run in the future?). However, the Chinese seem to have more precision when they talk about emotions than we do. For example, they have about 20 words for happy, discerning between a general state of contentment, delight in the moment, and a feeling of being fortunate.

The words Emily typed in Chinese that came out as “something the mama” and “he was a little worried”, could have had much more precise meanings than what came though in translation. For example, the Chinese word she used that got translated as “something” could have been a word with either calming or alarming overtones. In English we would perhaps have used more words: “something came up”, like an invitation to have coffee with an old friend, or “something happened”, like the car broke down.

I wonder how much our language affects our thinking. Do we who speak English care more about whether it is a generalization about dogs or the behavior of a specific one because our language teaches us to do so?

I am pretty sure that “give him the phone number tomorrow” means give him a call.

A few more hours to kill.

*QQ is a Chinese Facebook-like communications program. It is by far the largest one used in the world. It is used by almost all Chinese people with cell phones and by people who want to communicate with them easily. I can  send a QQ IM and will usually get a response in a few seconds.

A Moment In Time-Goodbye Sweet Ginger

It’s not my fault you have to go. You are not my dog; I don’t have a dog; I don’t even want a dog…but I will miss you. It has been fun having you with me: taking walks and chasing squirrels and wagging our tails together (it’s good for our waistlines).
It is hard to say goodbye.

Knowing that you, in your youthful exuberance, are a danger to her doesn’t help. Aging is hard, and watching it happen is just as hard.

I wish you weren’t going back to that. To someone who keeps a cane on the door to threaten you, because you get so excited and happy when she comes in that it scares her, who threatens you with a fly swatter when you want to play, and who yells at you for barking at things she can no longer hear. It makes me sad to see her that way.

And the sorrow about her makes it that much harder to say goodbye to you.

You are not my dog; I don’t have a dog; I don’t even want a dog. No, I don’t want to take you away from anyone…but I will miss you.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Moment in Time.”

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