Another Little Stroll

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dog Politics

 

 

 

 

 

Cloudy . . . Clearing Late

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent Reads

Mantel's big, multi-faceted, densely populated novel centers on and is seen from the point of view of Thomas Cromwell, the blacksmith's son who rose from exceedingly humble beginnings to become the most powerful man in England, except, of course, for Henry VIII, whom he served. 

When I was in my early teens, I read historical novels almost exclusively. And at least half of these novels were set in Tudor England -- beginning with Ann of a Thousand Days -- a sympathetic (heartbreaking) portrayal of Ann Boleyn.  So this is familiar ground for me, as far as the broad outlines of 'what happened.'

But Wolf Hall is a real departure from all those romantic depictions, usually accompanied by an omniscient narrative voice that ensures the reader is learning a little history along with enjoying the story. On the contrary, Mantel plops us straight into  Thomas Cromwell's point of view and we learn as he does and through his eyes and ears, just what sort of world this is.

At first I found it like waking up in another time or place -- with no sign posts. In fact, the first few pages were hard going --  who are these people and why are there so many Thomases?  But the immediacy of the experience and the sensory surround effect began to enthrall me and I kept reading. As familiar names began to appear -- Cardinal Wolsey, Great Harry himself, Queen Catherine, Ann Boleyn, Thomas More -- it all fell into place and I raced through the pages, eager to see how the Divorce was handled.

If I'd taken a few moments before beginning the book to remind myself of the main points of Thomas Cromwell's history, I wouldn't have been quite so lost at first.Of course I'll read it again to savor more thoroughly the masterful writing.  I expect I'll enjoy it even more.  It is truly a remarkable piece of writing -- I can't think of anything comparable.

Go HERE for Joan Acocella's review of Wolf Hall in The New Yorker.  It does contain 'spoilers' but only if you're not already somewhat familiar with the history of  Henry VIII.

Improvement on an Old Saying

O, what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive...

Sir Walter Scott wrote that. Then some wit (whose name I can't find) added :

But when we've practised quite a while
How vastly we improve our style.


Not that I condone practicing to deceive . . . but it's probably true that one gets better at it.  Certain politicians spring to mind...

A (Very) Brief Outdoor Excursion

 

 

 

 

 

Onward and Upward!

The stairs to my workroom have been a no-go zone ever since the surgery. Piles of napkins and throw pillow covers -- the red and greens and the autumn leaf colored -- have been taken up those stairs ( not by me) along with the scarlet ribbons from the tree, all awaiting ironing. Not  to mention all the empty boxes, gift wrapping materials, and other odds and ends that have been stowed away to await my attempts at organizing them. 

When Jay, my physical therapist, visited yesterday, he was happy to see me walking without the cane and I told him that what I really wanted was to climb the stairs. So we worked out a plan which suited me perfectly. I went up the stairs on all fours and without a twinge from the knee.  The I came back down, backwards and using the same 'hands-on' technique.

It's not pretty and I won't try it in public. But it 's a milestone.   Jay said that using the stairs that way was as good as any of the exercises he's had me do and he said something along the lines of My job here is done, ma'am.

So no more walker, no more cane, no more heavy duty meds, no more visits from Jay.  I still have to take good breaks and stretch out when I feel tired but I do, indeed see a light at the end of the tunnel -- or maybe it's at the top of the stairs. 

Oh glory!  Can you imagine how good it felt to be up there ironing -- performing a normal useful activity?

 Driving is next on my list...    

   

On New Year's Celebrations

We (and when I say we, I mean mainly myself) have never been big on New Year partying -- too far, too late, too cold, and always the problem of having something to drink and then driving the mountain roads. And, since my family tradition calls for getting the tree out of the house before the New Year, I'm usually pretty tired after all the hoo-ha of de-ornamenting the tree and packing away all the pretties. Usually we opt to stay home, have a nice meal, and attempt to stay awake till midnight and drink some bubbly.  For the past few years, 'midnight' has been something of a moveable feast -- often occurring around 10 pm.

This year we hit upon what I think will become a family tradition -- it seemed so apprpriate. After deconstructing the tree, putting the black-eyed peas to soak, and chopping and cooking a mountain of collards for New Year's Day, we made a really nice turkey vegetable soup, using broth from the turkey carcass and throwing in all sorts of bits and pieces from the freezer -- tomatoes, beans, the remnants of greens, a bit of a previous vegetable soup, and onions and rice.

Bubbly was served throughout the concocting of this soup (I knew I wouldn't be awake at midnight) and we enjoyed it with hot bread and butter.  I think I went to bed before nine -- my Occupational Therapy (and perhaps the wine) having left me with no viable alternative.

It was a perfect New Year's Eve!

Yesterday, New Year's Day, was devoted to putting away all the Christmassy red and green (quilts and throw pillows and odds and ends) and replacing these with blue and yellow. Much as I love the Christmas look, I'm also ready to be done with it and I embrace the change.

Our in-laws-to-be came for supper and shared our pork chops, collard greens, black-eyed peas and rice (aka Hoppin' John,) and corn bread. (These future in-laws, Nancy and Bill, will be doubly blessed this year as they had lunch with friends who served the same traditional menu. . .)

It feels good to be building new traditions even as we maintain the old ones.

What were your New Year celebrations like? 
I hope they suited you as well as ours suited us.

 

Happy 2013!