Flushed!

Scatology - what a fine word.  It has always been one of my personal favorites.  Finally, I have read a book that actually used the word. 


I must admit, I thought the book would have been a tad more technical when I selected it; however, since I found it in a "general reading" bookstore and not from a professional society website or college bookstore, I should have known better.  Yet this book did clear up a few misconceptions I had about sewer systems and the like.

My favorite part was a discussion of euphemisms used to describe the "toilet" - including the "crapper."  For one, I had always been lead to believe that the device referred to as the "porcelain pony" was invented by Thomas Crapper.  I was wrong.
 
According to  Hodding Carter, the author of "Flushed," the origins of the modern "water closet" was Sir John Harington in 1596.  Crapper merely improved on the device.

Then the story got interesting:

"Crapper was a simple plumber and manufacturer, but we know his name so well because his toilet was the most popular brand in England during the First World War.  Our doughboys, it is guessed, would announce they were going to the 'Crapper.'  The euphemism crossed the ocean when they came home.  By some strange coincidence, crap, as a slang for feces, was used long before Crapper came on the scene  Etymologists believe it was derived from the Dutch word krappen, which means to cut off, and its earliest known written usage was in 1846, when Thomas Crapper was only ten years old.  This is a perfect example of an aptronym, a name that is suited to the profession of its owner."


The book also suggests that it was the influence of Christianity that caused people to become so "concerned" about their bodily wastes and caused us to move to a private situation for elimination.  Apparently, the early Romans had entire rooms without dividers in which people would sit and eliminate while discussing local matters of interest with their fellow "poopers."  


I laughed out loud at parts of the book.  Other sections were very interesting and actually informative.  In fact, I have started daydreaming (again) about building a house that will minimize the use of water to remove "waste" material from the bathroom fixture used to remove digested materials from the body.  I certainly will keep you informed on this exciting endeavour.


And that, dear reader, is your scatological lesson for today.  Enjoy your private time on the throne and think of Thomas Crapper.

"Camping:  The art of getting closer to nature while getting farther away from the nearest cold beverage, hot shower and flush toilet."  ~Author Unknown

Summer

Yes, it is HOT!  Just ask Buddy.  Poor thing has been suffering again.  I finally caved and turned on the air conditioning again today (we are under another heat advisory with the index well over 100).  I know, some of you say, "big deal" that is spring weather here.  I say, try our humidity sometime and then comment.

Even with the air conditioning, I have to turn on a fan next to my desk.  Partially, this is because the register that delivers the cooled air is next to the desk and requires redirection to reach most of the great room.

In spite of the heat, however, I can't keep Blondie in the house.  She prefers the garage and will spend the entire day snoozing on the concrete floor.  

BK remains MIA - and this time could be permanent.  He has been gone for a week plus.  I am sad.  He really is a pretty good kitty.  Besides, none of the others have been hunting in the tall grasses for the mice.  Black Beauty is missing a couple teeth, so that is one excuse.  The other being the HEAT!

"Heat, ma'am! it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones."  ~Sydney Smith, Lady Holland's Memoir

Rainbows

The other day after an afternoon shower a rainbow appeared in the sky.  Not too unusual, but their appearances always make me stop and look.

This time I also managed to snap a few photos.  I have pictures of rainbows that appeared over Guam many years ago, and they were just as amazing as the one over Illinois on Sunday.


What was different this time was my reaction to the sight.  Instead of merely admiring the arc and its colors, I actually thought about Noah and the rainbow at the end of the flood.  As I recall, the rainbow was to signify a promise to never destroy the earth by water.  


My cynical self has reared its ugly presence and said, that is certain.  Next time the downfall will be caused by governments.  Of course, the Old Testament is full of stories related to bad government and the ultimate demise of same.  

I am thinking the rainbow that was here was sent to cheer me up.  After all, I have not been in the best of moods recently.  The weather is part of the cause, I am certain (particularly since I am not alone - my walking partner has suffered the same case of the blahs).  As many know, I am not a fan of hot and sticky weather (so why, you might ask, am I living in the humidity capital of the US - i.e., the Midwest).  I am not inclined to run during this type of atmospheric condition, and outside effort is more than I can stand.


On the other hand, there was a "double rainbow" on Sunday.  Maybe there is an extra special message there - like August will be like September (not so humid).  That is certainly something to brighten my mood.


Then again, just seeing a rainbow makes me smile.  Something about the colors.

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."  ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Mundane

Some days are just "ordinary."  Ask my Mom - she believes (on many days) that her life is now "boring."  It seems to be the same stuff day in and day out - she visits her best friend in the nursing home on most days, she reads books selected from the local library (noting that most come from the fiction shelves, with the exception of biographies), a couple times each week she heads to the grocery store (bananas and cream are the usual culprits that require replenishment), hair appointment on Friday mornings, housekeeper comes on Tuesdays, and church on Sunday.  Of course, there are the dinners out with an extended family member (generally my sister's mother-in-law, another 80-something), and biweekly trips to Terra Haute (with the same 80-something person who can still go there without getting lost) when they "handle the goods" and then eat.

Mom's day begins (according to her) when Beavis (the cat) wakes her up at 7 AM (even when the time shifts from daylight savings to standard or vice versa).  She rises and feeds him.  Then, on nice days, takes him out to the gazebo to watch the birds and traffic (Mom has forgotten that BB Gato was the cat that always wanted to go to the gazebo and Beavis stayed inside - but BB is gone now).  There is the morning paper to read and about 11 AM the mail shows up, keeping Mom occupied for at least an hour as she patiently opens each request for money and then neatly places all the paperwork back into the respective envelops before stuffing the entire mess into a plastic bag, which she will save for varying lengths of time until one or both daughters arrive and sort to toss.

I am not sure who's day has the more mundane activities.  My "exciting" but normal day starts by walking with neighbors (at 7 AM, Monday through Thursday and Saturday - unless one has to wash her hair, get an oil change, or some other activity that would preclude the half hour for walking), then coffee for a couple hours while checking e-mails and completing the daily tasks (watering Audrey, feed cats,fill fountains, visit the Animal Rescue website, read the daily Proverb, and so forth).  This leads to the normal activity of search for job leads and sending resumes electronically.

The weekly activities include mowing the so called grass (which requires a minimum of 3 hours each week), doing the laundry (including hanging on the line to dry except in months where the ambient temperature stays below freezing), grocery shopping (after church usually - no reason to make extra trips to town), cleaning the house (my goal is to complete one room a day, and that doesn't ever seem to happen), review pending bills and pay same, and attempt to complete one book each week (complete is the operative word, because there are always several "in progress").  


My Outlook "task list" sets my goals for each day.  I have several "tasks" that have lingered on the list for more than a year, however.  The basement is the biggest one - it really needs to be cleaned and the rest of my college notebooks tossed, along with other times not essential to my well being.  My next house will NOT have a basement - too convenient to drop stuff there and "store" indefinitely, or until the sump pump fails.


The best part about a mundane schedule is being guilt free when I get distracted by kitties, a news item on the radio or television, deer or other wildlife in the yard, or nice weather that harkens me to the deck or porch for reading instead of checking off tasks.  What the heck, the list will still be there tomorrow.

'Now that it's all over, what did you really do yesterday that's worth mentioning?'  ~Coleman Cox (author)

 

The Gift of Words

While in the North Country, my cousin gave me the gift of words.  Not just any words - but words that my dad collected.  Dad kept notebooks of words that he found interesting.  Some are arcane, some are foreign, and many were of the "nasty" bent.  But all are worthy of use (in the proper context, naturally).

Dad would collect the words and the look for opportunities to use them.  He would slide them into conversations or drop them into memorandum he sent forth to the corporate office.  

I am not certain where he picked up the words.  Some clearly came from articles he read (because portions of articles are found in the notebook).  Others I assume came from his extensive reading.

What words you ask?  Here are a sampling few:  lacuna, polemic, jejune, and flerd.  He also collected phrases and names of people generally forgotten, such as Daedalus (see the movie "Space Cowboys" for a reference to this person).  Phrases such as:  "...at the price of scrumching the rest of the menu..." found in Newsweek.

This is a true treasure.  I have my own notebook and keep an electronic list of similar phrases, words, and quotes.  The lost art of writing should be regained and words should reign supreme.

"The meaning was as clear as a hawser at midnight during a cloudy night." - John D. Longfield

The "F's" of July 4th

The drive to North Country was uneventful, if not rather time consuming.  While on the drive I wondered what the holiday would bring.  Usually, the gathering of the clan results in a wide range of tales to be told and relived.  As it was, this year fulfilled all  those expectations (and then some).

One of the highlights (you might say) was meeting "Fido" - the first "F" of the holiday.  Actually, the lovely German shepherd's name is GRAYLING - like the town, camp, and all but extinct fish.  Fabulous dog - well mannered and even tempered (good thing given the events of the holiday).

Rather than detailing all, I will highlight the memorable "F's."  In addition to meeting Grayling, the number one F would be Family.  I arrived at my Aunt's in time for the cocktail hour.  That was followed by the first of three fantastic meals served by her.  

The small kitchen saw numerous people attending to food preparation during the three days I was in attendance.  Activities in that area were time of good conversation, but focused on the meal to be served.  After eating, dishes were done and folks relaxed on the deck for more conversation.   

Speaking of the deck, another F comes to mind - Fathers.  My uncle (who is in his mid-80s now) is the father of four, all of whom were in attendance.  Three of the sons are also fathers, and each had one or more off-spring at the gathering.  The relationships between fathers and progeny can be complicated, and this holiday proved to expose some of the complexities.  I suppose some people are better prepared (at the DNA level) to be parents. 

Other holiday "F's" include floating, friends, and free time.  First, the giant float.  On July 4th the clan gathered on the Main Branch of the Au Sable for a float.  We are very fortunate that this blogger does not have photographs from the trip.  Suffice to say, when we rafted together, the person in the kayak was responsible to maintaining the "float" free from river threats.  Sometimes she was successful and, ... well, the last I saw of the "river guide" on stream was when she was hung up on a tree because the cooler she pulled had snagged a sunken log (Austin to the rescue).

Friends were waiting on the deck when the clan returned to dry land.  These were Shelia's parents (Nick and Pauline).  What fun!  Another great meal, and then off to the river for a late evening float.  Great Independence Day.

Monday threatened rain.  John and I visited Raleigh and Sparkle at Wakely Lake.  Rain poured as we returned to the cabin.  More food in the evening.


Then escape to the North Branch with an intervening stop at the former Hard Times.  Teri and I had a rousing (if not almost as long as a tennis match) game of pool.  That would be classified as more fun.  Then it was time for a quiet evening on the North Branch.  Turned in early to prepare for the marathon drive back the next morning.

Tuesday morning was quiet - shared a couple cups of coffee and some conversation with Jim (his kids were still asleep and Uncle left for a round of golf).  After a quick stop on the Main Branch for toast, coffee, and a care package, it was time to head out of town.  I grabbed my book (which kept being left behind when I returned to the North Branch each evening) and hit the road.  

That leads me to the last "F" - forest.  The trip up was peaceful, but when the pines began to dominate the landscape, my heart beat picked up.  It always does - that is the signal that the North Country is close.  On the return, I was able to admire the tall, stately lodge pines and contemplated the events of the holiday.  

Unemployment and/or lack of work affects each person in a different manner.  Some give up and seek methods to keep the reality from their consciousness.  Others keep the faith and continue in good spirits to look for a change in the situation, while others prepare for the worst case and consider options that will have long-term consequences.  Interesting to think about the different approaches from a group who share aspects of DNA. 

"Man is the only creature that refuses to be what he is."  ~Albert Camus