Today is a Buffalo double, which means that I have about 6 hours to kill between the end of the morning rehearsal and the start of the evening concert. I'm at a Coffee Culture on Elmwood Ave with a big stack of books, a laptop, and a lunchbox that used to be full of pizza. It takes 1 hour and 19 minutes to drive from our apartment to Kleinhans, a drive that I am not keen to do four times in one day. (I'll have to on Saturday...church staff party demands I come home between.)
This Coffee Culture isn't a bad place to spend the afternoon, though. I did my taxes here in March, I've read lots of books, studied scores for upcoming concerts, and planned needlessly elaborate games and projects for James and Julie. I've just spent the last hour and a half translating.
I try to keep four translation projects open at once, which has been the problem with learning Hebrew. Keeping a running fifth project open with Calvus is possible during some parts of the year, but most of the time I don't have enough hours in the day to get to everything. Currently in my backpack are the Vulgate Bible, a volume of Sedulius, a collection of plays by Euripides, and the last half of the Iliad.
I've been reading through all of the major prophets in the Vulgate, which is St. Jerome's translation of the Bible into Latin. (And in my opinion, one of the most beautiful, if not the most accurate, translations ever made.) Here's what I did today, 10 verses about return from exile and judgment using pastoral language.
Ezekiel XXXIV:11-20
The Lord God says this: Behold I will seek my sheep again and will visit them. Just as a shepherd visits his flock in the day when he will be in the midst of his scattered sheep, thus I will visit my sheep and will free them from all places where they were scattered in the day of cloud and darkness. And I will lead them out from the peoples and gather them from the lands and will bring them into their land and will pasture them in the mountains of Israel, in the rivers and in all the seats of the land. In the most fertile pastures I will pasture them and on the high mountains of Israel their pastures shall be. There they will rest in green grass and in rich pastures they will be pastured upon the mountains of Israel. I will pasture my sheep and I will make them to lie down, says the Lord God. What was lost I will seek back and what was cast away I will lead back and what had been broken I will bind up and what was weak I will strengthen and what was fat and strong I will keep and will pasture them in judgment. But you, O my flocks, the Lord God says this: Behold I judge between flock and clock, of rams and he-goats. Was it not enough to you to feed on the good pasture, and even the rest of your pastures you trampled with your feet and when you drank the purest water you troubled the rest with your feet. And my sheep on that which had been trampled by your feet were fed, and what your feet had troubled they drank. Therefore the Lord God says this: Behold I myself will judge between the fat and the lean of the flock.
Calvus gave me an SBL edition of Sedulius for my birthday (I think) last year, and I got around to starting it a few months ago. It's a dense five-volume hexameter poem deliberately copying Virgil that adapts the gospel story and sets it in the "jewelled" style. I'm glad I was already familiar with the story...I had to look up lots of words, and unravel lots of grammar from the parallel translation. I knew I was getting close to the end, but I didn't realize that I was going to finish the book today! Once I found myself at the end of the poem I signed and dated the bottom, which I try to do with any major translations I make. The section today picks up right as the ascension is about to take place.
Sedulii Paschale Carmen V.416-fin
Then teaching the following he said Peace, have you all. Take my peace, carry quiet (calm) peace, peace spread you through the peoples by my holy commands and cleanse the world from ills, to call nations from the ends of the earth as wide as the world is stretched, I command in my biddings to wash all in the fount. When this was said the Lord brought his kind address to an end, and soon he sought the fields of Bethany, and in the presence of the blessed men which merited so great a triumph to look upon, carried off into the skies he departed into the high regions/shores. (oras) And he himself sits at the right of the father and governs all by his authority which holding all things whether high or low after he entered Tartarus from heaven, he entered heaven after Tartarus. But they with joyful faces discerning the lord to go over the high clouds and to tread the shimmering expanses with his own feet worshiped him reverently and repeated with eager heart his starry path, which they would teach all, for they were faithful witnesses by the rule of the divine power, which seeing much wrote down a few of the innumerable good deeds. For if they had wished to hand down in holy pages all things done by their redeemer, neither would the whole world suffice to contain (gird) so many thick books.
I've been taking a break from my regular schedule of New Testament readings to work on Euripides' Bacchae, and I have just a few hundred verses left. It's hard, slow going. I know I'm not picking up on a lot of the subtle dynamics within the text, but I think I've been making an okay job of it with the help of a parallel translation. I picked up today directly after the verse where the death of Pentheus is announced.
Bacchae 1031
Chorus: King Bromius [thus] are you revealed a great god!
2nd Messenger: How do you say this? What is this you speak? O women, do you rejoice on my words of the events falling ill to my master? (no idea about this verse, actually)
Chorus: We shout hurrah in barbarian language, it pleases us as foreigners, for no longer are we frightened by the terror of prison.
2nd Messenger: And do you think Thebes to be without men, O women, with our king now being dead? This will bring you unto grief.
Chorus: It is Dionysus the child of Zeus, not the Thebans holding my rule.
2nd Messenger: It is pardonable to you, but on others' ills it is not good to rejoice, O women.
Chorus: Tell me, speak, by what fate did he die, the unjust and injustice-contriving man?
Messenger: Then attending leaving this Theban ground we crossed the rushing Asopus, we struck out into the rocky Cithaeron, Pentheus and I, for I followed my master, and the stranger who was escort to the festival/viewing.
I almost always save Homer for last. Where I am in the story Achilleus has just learned of Patroklus' death and held conference with his mother, who brings him new armor from Hephaestus as he prepares to retrieve the body.
Iliad XVIII.207-218
And as when smoke going from the city of a far island would reach the aether, its enemies battling around it, and those which all day were judged by hateful Ares, from their city. And together with the setting sun the numerous beacon-fires blaze and the glow comes darting on high to be seen by the neighbors, which there with ships might come as defenders. Thus from the head of Achilleus went radiance to the sky. And he going from the wall stood upon the trench, nor did he mingle with the Achaians, for he regarded the command of his mother. There standing he bellowed and Pallas Athena called aloud from afar. Yet he roused inexpressible confusion among the Trojans.
It isn't ever much, and it isn't ever much good, but with an afternoon to spare there isn't a much better way to pass it than sipping a cup of hot coffee and taking what nibbles I can of the ancient Mediterranean.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Into Summer
It's warm out every day now, and the Smith family of Clover Park Drive is preparing for summer. My first full season with Symphoria wrapped up, and I've been offered the job for another year. There was a big Beethoven 9 show in April, and for the first time all season I walked from the parking garage to the hall in sunny/pleasant weather. All year long that walk had been through whipping winds and slush and brown snow mountains. I hardly knew what to think as we walked through a beautiful downtown Syracuse. There was a "highbrow" movie show after that, and then a much more enjoyable "lowbrow" movie music pops show.
The first week after the end of Symphoria was gloriously blank, but BPO called as I was wrapping up the pops concerts with an offer to play one of their pops shows. And then a donor concert. And then a classics week. And then the contemporary music week. And that's how my "low-key" June turned into working in Buffalo all month. But that's been great--there's a lot of money coming in, and both new cars have been (knock-knock) free from trouble. I continue to spend lots of quality time with I-90.
J is beginning to show a bit of baby bump. She's very cute. It's been encouraging to see everyone's reaction to the news, and I know that she loves being pregnant. She's more keen on an afternoon nap nowadays, but otherwise she's keeping up the same pace to her days. She teaches at a local Christian school on Wednesday mornings, Hochstein on Wednesday nights, and then does church work from Thursday through Sunday. She played a quintet recital last week, and James sat through the whole thing without a peep. Just as we've got the one child trained to attend concerts, we're going to need to break in another!
James lives for the spish-spish. He wants to be outside all the time, and his favorite place to be is roaming up and down the near side of the automated car wash. At this point most of the employees--college aged boys in bow-ties, starched blue shirts, and sneakers--know him by name and wave to him. He mashes his face up against the windows and they'll occasionally spray at him with a hose. Once he watches the attendants hose off the car he dashes to the next window to watch it get soaped, then to the next window to watch the automatic dryer kick on, and then to the exit to watch the car drive out dripping and "all clean."
It's hot in our apartment most of the time, up on the second floor, and that's just fine so far. I practice in shorts and an undershirt, and slip on flip flops to take laundry or trash down to the basement. Adulthood is starting to get a bit easier. I say this with great caution and humility, but I think that now more often than not my laundry is done, my living quarters are clean, and the urgent items on my desk are taken care of.
There's still a lot up in the air, of course. We don't know where we'll live next fall, or where I'll work the fall after that. We don't know if we're in upstate New York to stay, or just until the next audition. But we have lots of good food in the fridge, two working vehicles, a little boy who chatters our ear off, and three potted plants on the table. We have the greatest supermarket in the world down the street, a perfectly manicured courtyard lawn, and three big trees outside the window. We have temperatures in the 70s and the 80s for the next week, and a chance to be out in it as a family. Summer is here, and it is good.
The first week after the end of Symphoria was gloriously blank, but BPO called as I was wrapping up the pops concerts with an offer to play one of their pops shows. And then a donor concert. And then a classics week. And then the contemporary music week. And that's how my "low-key" June turned into working in Buffalo all month. But that's been great--there's a lot of money coming in, and both new cars have been (knock-knock) free from trouble. I continue to spend lots of quality time with I-90.
J is beginning to show a bit of baby bump. She's very cute. It's been encouraging to see everyone's reaction to the news, and I know that she loves being pregnant. She's more keen on an afternoon nap nowadays, but otherwise she's keeping up the same pace to her days. She teaches at a local Christian school on Wednesday mornings, Hochstein on Wednesday nights, and then does church work from Thursday through Sunday. She played a quintet recital last week, and James sat through the whole thing without a peep. Just as we've got the one child trained to attend concerts, we're going to need to break in another!
James lives for the spish-spish. He wants to be outside all the time, and his favorite place to be is roaming up and down the near side of the automated car wash. At this point most of the employees--college aged boys in bow-ties, starched blue shirts, and sneakers--know him by name and wave to him. He mashes his face up against the windows and they'll occasionally spray at him with a hose. Once he watches the attendants hose off the car he dashes to the next window to watch it get soaped, then to the next window to watch the automatic dryer kick on, and then to the exit to watch the car drive out dripping and "all clean."
It's hot in our apartment most of the time, up on the second floor, and that's just fine so far. I practice in shorts and an undershirt, and slip on flip flops to take laundry or trash down to the basement. Adulthood is starting to get a bit easier. I say this with great caution and humility, but I think that now more often than not my laundry is done, my living quarters are clean, and the urgent items on my desk are taken care of.
There's still a lot up in the air, of course. We don't know where we'll live next fall, or where I'll work the fall after that. We don't know if we're in upstate New York to stay, or just until the next audition. But we have lots of good food in the fridge, two working vehicles, a little boy who chatters our ear off, and three potted plants on the table. We have the greatest supermarket in the world down the street, a perfectly manicured courtyard lawn, and three big trees outside the window. We have temperatures in the 70s and the 80s for the next week, and a chance to be out in it as a family. Summer is here, and it is good.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Poems for Memorial Day
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace
AND THEN A MARCHING BAND CAME IN
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace
AND THEN A MARCHING BAND CAME IN
Get up, get up for shame, the Blooming Morne
Upon her wings presents the god unshorne.
See how Aurora throwes her faire
Fresh-quilted colours through the aire:
Get up, sweet-Slug-a-bed, and see
The Dew-bespangling Herbe and Tree.
Each Flower has wept, and bow'd toward the East,
Above an houre since; yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the Birds have Mattens seyd,
AND THEN A MARCHING BAND COMES IN
Is the night chilly and dark?
The night is chilly, but not dark.
The thin gray cloud is spread on high,
It covers but not hides the sky.
The moon is behind, and at the full;
And yet she looks both small and dull.
The night is chill, the cloud is gray:
'Tis a month before the month of May,
And the Spring comes slowly up this way.
AND THEN A MARCHING BAND COMES IN
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
ON A MARCHING BAND COMING IN
the moral of the story is that having a marching band show up doesn't really make anything better...
Monday, May 12, 2014
Yaris
A dark night in a city that knows how keep its secrets...but up on the second floor of the Clover Park building one man is trying to find the answer to life's persistent questions.
It was a cold Sunday evening, and I was down in a basement working on an old case with my brother over a couple of stale beers. Something about some missing robots and a broad looking for an old guy who was her "only hope." I'd been in the same uncomfortable shoes and smelly suit all weekend long, and I got a phone call from my brother-in-law, Timmy thumbs.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hey, sorry about your car, but I won't be fixin' it."
Well didn't that just figure. My old jalopy had finally quit on me, like an old broad giving up on a bad marriage. Without Timmy's mechanical expertise there'd be no chance of squeezing a few more hundred miles out of her. She'd been a good old car, but like so many ladies in my life she was finally moving on and leaving for good.
I didn't even call ahead to the airport, I just showed up amid shuffling along the dirty asphalt and looking in the windows of the car rental places. There was one open, and I hired it for two days. It was a sweet little thing, way out of a normal private eye's pocketbook. I climbed inside more weary than I could ever remember and went off driving two hours to a little joint in a town called Hamilton. You see, sometimes in the evenings I play the trumpet with some other cats in town. It's the only work I could find that's more dangerous and less profitable than being a private eye, so it seemed like a good fit.
When I was out there I made some calls to some buddies and got ahold of some fellow selling a Yaris. My brother owned a Yaris, and there was a lot to like about them. Dependable. Small. Easy to miss. I set up a time to meet the fellow on Tuesday and played my gig.
After far too few hours sleep I rolled out of bed again and was back on a case at a local school. I'd been hired to do a job there, canvassing the place for any signs of musical talent. I'd been at it for years, it sometimes felt like, and still hadn't found a thing. I drove the rental car around and even showed it to my kid. He's a swell little boy. He thought the sunroof was great, and he made me open it and close it again about a hundred times. I went back out to Hamilton again that night, and got back so late it was almost Tuesday morning again.
When I got up on Tuesday it was a dark and rainy sort of morning. I pulled on a jacket and drove up to the north part of town, looking for a used car dealer. I didn't have anything in particular in mind, but I thought it might be a good idea to have a second option before I might with that fellow who was selling the Yaris. As a matter of fact, there was a Yaris at the dealership too. I met with some dame named Tina. She was Italian, and kinda pushy.When she asked for my name I told her it was "Mr. Smith." She asked me what I was looking to pay for the Yaris.
"Well, I said, I wanna spend about 7 gs."
She laughed at me and made some big show of asking her manager what he could do for me. They gave me a number and tried to twist my arm into staying and buying their car, but I've wriggled out of too many tight situations. I was on the road again as the rain battered my rental's windshield, but not to go meet the fellow with the other Yaris yet.
I met my wife at a doctor's office on the south part of town. She pulled up in a black sedan, and stepped out into the drizzle. She was a wearing a gray cocktail hoodie, and if it had been form fitting you could've seen that she really big breasts, 'cause she was knocked up. She had our other kid in tow behind her, and he was doing some investigating of his own to see if he could pinch her iPad.
We walked into the fluorescent lighting and ancient carpet of the doctor's office, and some dame gave her an ultrasound while the new baby did its best informant protection and stayed hid. She had to get some blood drawn, and I left her with the boy. I'd seen too much blood already in my days...
I drove back to my place and dug around in the old metal filing cabinets in the basement to find some crucial documents--titles and registrations and the like. Then I drove back up to the north part of town and met with the fellow who was selling his Yaris privately.
The car was a dump. It had been keyed, the brakes were shot, the engine light was on, and the whole inside was covered with a layer of grime. I drove it around the block just to be polite, and the fellow poured out his life story--getting arrested, losing his job, kids from different women, doing drugs (inside the car, judging by the smell) and pretty much guaranteeing that I would not be buying a vehicle from him. I felt like his therapist.
I called back Rita from the used car place, and told her we'd be buying her Yaris. I drove back to the south part of the city, we loaded up the kid and drove up to the north part of the city. If we hustled, we could still drop the rental off before we got charged an extra day.
No luck. There was a hold-up on the paperwork, and they told us we'd have to come back the next day. I shuffled back home again, dropped off my wife and my kid, and then made the journey out to Hamilton. It's tough, life on the road. Nothing but you and your thoughts, and when you're a private eye or an orchestral trumpet player you've seen some scary things in your time. Too many cheating husbands or pompous conductors. It almost makes you lose faith in humanity. But then, just when you're about ready to give up on decent people, you hear some really great music.
Nah, it was a Haydn oratorio. So mostly I pinched myself to stay awake and tried to convince myself that I might have a car again by the next night.
It was cold and rainy again. I poked around the school again in the morning, peering down clarinet barrels and trying to make sense of broken reeds and jammed valves. There are some mysteries that not even the most experienced detective can make sense of. How a fourth grader breaks there instrument twice in one week is one of those mysteries.
In the afternoon we finally dropped off the rental car, and then got ready to liquidate the rest of our earthly goods on a new used car.
Ah, a Yaris. Some call it the Rolls-Royce of the economy import subcompact class. She looked beautiful, even in the the foul weather, all polished up and waiting to be driven. We signed a folder full of papers, got the usual blank stare-turning-into-laughter when I tried to explain how I made a normal income, just in four different pieces, and then signed our names one last time and wrote a check. And then we climbed into our new Yaris and got ready to fight the rush hour traffic on the way back home.
A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets...but up on the second floor of the Clover Park building one man is trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...
It was a cold Sunday evening, and I was down in a basement working on an old case with my brother over a couple of stale beers. Something about some missing robots and a broad looking for an old guy who was her "only hope." I'd been in the same uncomfortable shoes and smelly suit all weekend long, and I got a phone call from my brother-in-law, Timmy thumbs.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hey, sorry about your car, but I won't be fixin' it."
Well didn't that just figure. My old jalopy had finally quit on me, like an old broad giving up on a bad marriage. Without Timmy's mechanical expertise there'd be no chance of squeezing a few more hundred miles out of her. She'd been a good old car, but like so many ladies in my life she was finally moving on and leaving for good.
I didn't even call ahead to the airport, I just showed up amid shuffling along the dirty asphalt and looking in the windows of the car rental places. There was one open, and I hired it for two days. It was a sweet little thing, way out of a normal private eye's pocketbook. I climbed inside more weary than I could ever remember and went off driving two hours to a little joint in a town called Hamilton. You see, sometimes in the evenings I play the trumpet with some other cats in town. It's the only work I could find that's more dangerous and less profitable than being a private eye, so it seemed like a good fit.
When I was out there I made some calls to some buddies and got ahold of some fellow selling a Yaris. My brother owned a Yaris, and there was a lot to like about them. Dependable. Small. Easy to miss. I set up a time to meet the fellow on Tuesday and played my gig.
After far too few hours sleep I rolled out of bed again and was back on a case at a local school. I'd been hired to do a job there, canvassing the place for any signs of musical talent. I'd been at it for years, it sometimes felt like, and still hadn't found a thing. I drove the rental car around and even showed it to my kid. He's a swell little boy. He thought the sunroof was great, and he made me open it and close it again about a hundred times. I went back out to Hamilton again that night, and got back so late it was almost Tuesday morning again.
When I got up on Tuesday it was a dark and rainy sort of morning. I pulled on a jacket and drove up to the north part of town, looking for a used car dealer. I didn't have anything in particular in mind, but I thought it might be a good idea to have a second option before I might with that fellow who was selling the Yaris. As a matter of fact, there was a Yaris at the dealership too. I met with some dame named Tina. She was Italian, and kinda pushy.When she asked for my name I told her it was "Mr. Smith." She asked me what I was looking to pay for the Yaris.
"Well, I said, I wanna spend about 7 gs."
She laughed at me and made some big show of asking her manager what he could do for me. They gave me a number and tried to twist my arm into staying and buying their car, but I've wriggled out of too many tight situations. I was on the road again as the rain battered my rental's windshield, but not to go meet the fellow with the other Yaris yet.
I met my wife at a doctor's office on the south part of town. She pulled up in a black sedan, and stepped out into the drizzle. She was a wearing a gray cocktail hoodie, and if it had been form fitting you could've seen that she really big breasts, 'cause she was knocked up. She had our other kid in tow behind her, and he was doing some investigating of his own to see if he could pinch her iPad.
We walked into the fluorescent lighting and ancient carpet of the doctor's office, and some dame gave her an ultrasound while the new baby did its best informant protection and stayed hid. She had to get some blood drawn, and I left her with the boy. I'd seen too much blood already in my days...
I drove back to my place and dug around in the old metal filing cabinets in the basement to find some crucial documents--titles and registrations and the like. Then I drove back up to the north part of town and met with the fellow who was selling his Yaris privately.
The car was a dump. It had been keyed, the brakes were shot, the engine light was on, and the whole inside was covered with a layer of grime. I drove it around the block just to be polite, and the fellow poured out his life story--getting arrested, losing his job, kids from different women, doing drugs (inside the car, judging by the smell) and pretty much guaranteeing that I would not be buying a vehicle from him. I felt like his therapist.
I called back Rita from the used car place, and told her we'd be buying her Yaris. I drove back to the south part of the city, we loaded up the kid and drove up to the north part of the city. If we hustled, we could still drop the rental off before we got charged an extra day.
No luck. There was a hold-up on the paperwork, and they told us we'd have to come back the next day. I shuffled back home again, dropped off my wife and my kid, and then made the journey out to Hamilton. It's tough, life on the road. Nothing but you and your thoughts, and when you're a private eye or an orchestral trumpet player you've seen some scary things in your time. Too many cheating husbands or pompous conductors. It almost makes you lose faith in humanity. But then, just when you're about ready to give up on decent people, you hear some really great music.
Nah, it was a Haydn oratorio. So mostly I pinched myself to stay awake and tried to convince myself that I might have a car again by the next night.
It was cold and rainy again. I poked around the school again in the morning, peering down clarinet barrels and trying to make sense of broken reeds and jammed valves. There are some mysteries that not even the most experienced detective can make sense of. How a fourth grader breaks there instrument twice in one week is one of those mysteries.
In the afternoon we finally dropped off the rental car, and then got ready to liquidate the rest of our earthly goods on a new used car.
Ah, a Yaris. Some call it the Rolls-Royce of the economy import subcompact class. She looked beautiful, even in the the foul weather, all polished up and waiting to be driven. We signed a folder full of papers, got the usual blank stare-turning-into-laughter when I tried to explain how I made a normal income, just in four different pieces, and then signed our names one last time and wrote a check. And then we climbed into our new Yaris and got ready to fight the rush hour traffic on the way back home.
A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets...but up on the second floor of the Clover Park building one man is trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Prius
And there was in the days of R. Dudlius a most curious practice by those who dwelled in the inhabited world. Each man had to himself a carriage made of iron and animated by a magicke most subtill, and they called these carriages "automobiles." These carriages were drawn by no horse and consumed no food, yet they drave as fast as meteors and roared a terrible sound. Of their magicke it is impossible to speak or understand, save only the sorcerers which are called "mechanicks." These iron carriages were wont to belch smoke and make noxious smell, and wheresoever they went was laid down black asphalt over the sweet grass, and many towers of stone and brick. The dwellers of the world in those days knew not the scents of meadows or dirt footpaths, nor had their fathers or grandfathers ever known them. Their learning was most quaynte, for of numbers and some magicke there were endless bookes, but of letters there was little knowledge. When James Bear, the son of R. Dudlius, beheld the iron carriages he loved them in his hearte and yearned to wash them, each one.
It happened that R. Dudlius and his wife drove two carriages. The first was traitorous and ever devysed evils against R. Dudlius. In time R. Dudlius waxed wroth and sold the faithless carriage. R. Dudlius bought for his wife a blacke carriage which shone as a polished stone, and it's name was Corolla. His other was called Neon, as was the name of the swift black ships of the Achaians. This carriage was ever faithful to the service of R. Dudlius, until a daemon troubled its bowels and no magicke could mend its sickness.
When his carriage had died R. Dudlius took up strong lament, for all of his gold and every precious thing had been lost to buy the shining carriage of his wife. Yet his brother Calvus the priest did give ear to his lamente, and he made present of his own carriage for R. Dudlius using in great brotherly kyndness.
The carriage of Calvus ran by a more powerful magicke than any yet seen, for all swich are locked and drawn and given fyre by keys, yet there was no key unto his. It's name was Prius, which in the tongue of our men means "earlier." When R. Dudlius drave the Prius it made no sound, nor did it pour forth black smoke. The feet of R. Dudlius grew dumb upon their pedals, for there was no lever by which R. Dudlius should shift the engynes, nor were his hands able to govern the carriage as was his wont. Yet this Prius seemed pleasant to him for driving, and it was exceeding swift and silent. It did not burn precious oils as is the habit of other carriages, and a sorcerous eye aspeckted hindwards by which R. Dudlius might see behind him.
R. Dudlius gave much thanksgiving and many fine gifts to Calvus the priest, and to his wife and to his infant son, who Calvus son of Thomas Richardes had christened "Silas." Of R. Dudlius' son, James the Bear, there were woeful tidings. On the great feast of Easter R. Dudlius and his wife had labored hard to blow the trumpet in the Great King's name at many churches. James the Bear grew weary with pilgrimage, and then became addled with sweet candies and cakes. He rose early in the morning and searched for hollow eggs with much sweetness inside. The son of R. Dudlius ate gluttonously and became gorged on his sweets, and then his limbs were set trembling and madness seized his mind. For a day and a night he was changed from boy to beast, and terrible were his shrieks. The wife of R. Dudlius grew stern, and when the madness passed she declared with a heavy oath that such sweets were unlawful. And thus passed the feast of Easter for R. Dudlius and his house.
It happened that R. Dudlius and his wife drove two carriages. The first was traitorous and ever devysed evils against R. Dudlius. In time R. Dudlius waxed wroth and sold the faithless carriage. R. Dudlius bought for his wife a blacke carriage which shone as a polished stone, and it's name was Corolla. His other was called Neon, as was the name of the swift black ships of the Achaians. This carriage was ever faithful to the service of R. Dudlius, until a daemon troubled its bowels and no magicke could mend its sickness.
When his carriage had died R. Dudlius took up strong lament, for all of his gold and every precious thing had been lost to buy the shining carriage of his wife. Yet his brother Calvus the priest did give ear to his lamente, and he made present of his own carriage for R. Dudlius using in great brotherly kyndness.
The carriage of Calvus ran by a more powerful magicke than any yet seen, for all swich are locked and drawn and given fyre by keys, yet there was no key unto his. It's name was Prius, which in the tongue of our men means "earlier." When R. Dudlius drave the Prius it made no sound, nor did it pour forth black smoke. The feet of R. Dudlius grew dumb upon their pedals, for there was no lever by which R. Dudlius should shift the engynes, nor were his hands able to govern the carriage as was his wont. Yet this Prius seemed pleasant to him for driving, and it was exceeding swift and silent. It did not burn precious oils as is the habit of other carriages, and a sorcerous eye aspeckted hindwards by which R. Dudlius might see behind him.
R. Dudlius gave much thanksgiving and many fine gifts to Calvus the priest, and to his wife and to his infant son, who Calvus son of Thomas Richardes had christened "Silas." Of R. Dudlius' son, James the Bear, there were woeful tidings. On the great feast of Easter R. Dudlius and his wife had labored hard to blow the trumpet in the Great King's name at many churches. James the Bear grew weary with pilgrimage, and then became addled with sweet candies and cakes. He rose early in the morning and searched for hollow eggs with much sweetness inside. The son of R. Dudlius ate gluttonously and became gorged on his sweets, and then his limbs were set trembling and madness seized his mind. For a day and a night he was changed from boy to beast, and terrible were his shrieks. The wife of R. Dudlius grew stern, and when the madness passed she declared with a heavy oath that such sweets were unlawful. And thus passed the feast of Easter for R. Dudlius and his house.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Potty Training
When J texted me that James had successfully gone on the potty, my first instinct was to text back "Great, don't put it on facebook." On the one hand, I know very well how overjoyed a parent must be that their child has learned to use the potty and has now begun the journey out of diapers and diaper-changing. On the other hand, the disgusting details of each successful potty trip are updates I don't need to know. Especially when I'm eating.
"Is that two, James?"
When I came home that night I clapped and hollered for James and asked him if he wanted to go again. ("No.") We'd been trying to bribe him with cookies for months, and he flatly denied every attempt to get him onto the pot voluntarily. I'm not sure what changed for him this time, but he proudly announced to me that he got "two cookies" (actually three animal crackers) when he related the events of the evening.
The next day I was home with him, and I attempted all morning to get him onto the potty again. No luck. At J's suggestion I bought a bag of skittles at Wegmans, since they are much smaller than chocolate chip cookies and they are James' favorite candy. (And, though this was in no way related to her suggestion, J's favorite candy.) I showed them to James when I got home and I told me "Oh, I want THOSE cookies!"
I had him on my own that afternoon, and to my great excitement he finally said he'd like to sit on the potty again when I asked him for the four hundredth time. He hopped up, paused for a second, and then said "I wanna cookie." I peered into the basin to inspect the results, and couldn't see any sign he'd done anything.
"Sorry James, you need to put some pee in the potty if you want a cookie."
No luck. He began fussing at me and begging for the iPad, and when I finally took him off the potty ten minutes later he was downright cross. It was just about suppertime, so I dumped the grumpy bear in his high chair and made him a peanut butter and jelly. He sat with one elbow up resting his head on his hand half-eating and half-smearing his sandwich all over his face. By this point I really needed to go to the bathroom, so I left the grouch alone in the kitchen.
When I entered the bathroom, I saw what I'd missed earlier. He did go to the potty.
I walked back out, and he looked up at me glumly. I knelt down and said in a soft voice "James, you did go to the potty, didn't you?" He nodded. "And Daddy didn't believe you. James, I looked but I didn't see it. Will you forgive Daddy?"
He stared back at me for a second and then his eyes started to well and his whole face scrunched up. He threw the peanut butter and jelly sandwich down and reached out, crying and begging "Daddy, Daddy, hold you! Daddy hold you!"
"Oh James, I'm so sorry. You did such a good job going on the potty, and I didn't even see it!"
"Daddy, I want GOOkie! Please gookie, Daddy." He wiped his peanut butter mouth and his runny nose on my shoulder while I retrieved the bag of skittles.
I set him back down and pulled out four skittles. Still trembling, he looked up.
"No, I want TWO cookies."
I put down one more skittle.
"Is that two, James?"
"Okay."
He went again (at his own asking) once more that night, and immediately asked for "cookies" again. When J pulled him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel before bed, he looked at her, tensed for a moment, and then declared to her "I want cookie." I don't think very much of it got through the towel, but she did get a little wet.
That night we put him into bed as proud as any two parents could be. And he lay in the dark with deep fish overhead, snuggling George and Steven and looking up at his picture of "three tractors." There are actually six. He counts them 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 3!
Maybe after potty-training we'll work on counting.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
The Lexicon
It's been lovely to hold newborn babies again. Silas and Abby are both super cute, and their parents are justifiably glowing. James, who often looks small compared to my 4th grade trumpet students, suddenly looks enormous while standing next to the new cousins. He also feels very heavy. I remember when he was little and helpless like them, and I even remember some of the quirks that made him uniquely James. But already he's walking and talking, and no longer a little baby. Soon he'll be able to pronounce his "r"s and "l"s...which is why I am writing down his lexicon for posterity.
AH DO
(emphasis on DO) This sometimes means "I do" but can also mean "yes." For example, when we read in Curious George and the Birthday Surprise "There were hats, games, decorations, and a cake. George wondered if the surprise was a party. Was it a party?" James will respond with an enthusiastic "Ah DO!"
HA DADDY
Apparently he is from the South. I get this greeting mostly when I come home from work, but occasionally it's the first thing he says in the morning when I go to get him up from his crib.
OH
Not just oh, but "OH!" with the circumflex accent. Again, this is mostly a roundabout way of saying yes. You'll be asking him whether he wants green car (no) or red car (no) or white car (OH!) and he takes up a full minor third swooping up and down.
oKAY
This is from Alexa, and another way of saying "yes." The o is barely present, just a soft launching point for a very enthusiastic KAY!
WHAT THAT BE?
His very elegant way of asking what something is. This is also how he determines where we left the car. "Mommy, where car be?" He can't say this unless he makes a questioning gesture with both hands at the same time.
WHAT IS (x) DOING?
This started out mostly as What is Mommy doing? or What is Daddy doing? Now he asks about all kinds people, things, and abstract ideas. It sort of became his version of the passive aggressive toddler "why" tactic for a while. For example, we'd put Wii sports on with O&K, and he'd ask "What is archery doing?"
SPISH SPISH
Spish-spish is car wash. More specifically it's the first and last of five car-washing noises, according to Curious George and the Car Wash. But mostly it's the car wash down the hill from us. The meaning of life is to visit spish-spish. "Daddy, I wanna go spish-spish. What is spish-spish doing?"
I WANT SPISH SPISH UP
We are fascinated by automatic garage doors. O&K have one, and there is one on each entrance to car wash. At O&Ks he will stand in the garage, point at the open door, and repeat endlessly "I want dat down. I want dat down. I want dat down." When we finally get our shoes off and set down whatever we're carrying, someone will attempt to mollify him by hitting the door button. He will watch in rapt silence, and as soon as the door is all the way down he immediately starts in on a chorus of "I want dat up. I want dat up." We've accepted it as a fact of life that whenever we drive out of our apartment he will watch out the backseat window to see whether the car wash exit door is open or closed, and then immediately plead for the opposite.
MOMMY'S CAR/DADDY'S CAR/NEW CAR
Mommy's car (the PT Cruiser) is no longer with us, replaced by a 2009 Toyota Corolla. But the Cruiser is not forgotten to James. He regularly asks to ride in it, and to take it through the car wash. We are awfully fond of new car--he's been including it in night time prayers ever since we bought it--but if he's put in his car seat in New Car, he immediately asks to ride in Daddy's Car.
OO-AH/DEE-DEE/NOTHER ONE DEE-DEE
One of our babysitters greeted Julie on the front porch the other day asking her whether she knew what an "oo-ah-dee-dee" was. (Another babysitter also told her that she couldn't figure out what "pish-pish" meant.) Oo-Ah is his stuffed Curious George, and Dee-Dee is the much beloved Steven Bear. He is perfectly capable of pronouncing both real names, but I think that Oo-Ah will only be George when we're reading about him. He does have a back up Steven Bear in considerably whiter condition who is called 'Nother One Dee-Dee. (Other Steven.)
WOOF-WOOF/MOW-MOW
Dogs and cats, of course. Since we love the Curious George TV series so much we've gotten to calling all black terriers Sharie (Charki) all weiner-looking dogs Hunny (Hundley) and any gray kittens Noogie. (Gnocchi.) For a while we thought that Grandma Davis would also be called Mow-Mow, but he's gotten better at saying Grandma.
GOOKIE
Strong accent on the first part of the word. We know we get gookies whenever we go to Wegmans, and whenever cookies are even mentioned James immediately exclaims that he wants a Gookie TOO! It didn't take him long to figure out that this phrase can be improved by reordering the words and saying "I want TWO Gookies!"
WIFE
James always asks for his wife in the morning. Not his spouse, of course, but a bowl of Life cereal. (Sometimes this comes out as "yife.") Even when he is actually in the mood for shredded wheat, he asks for wife first.
WAWER/WADUH
He's been getting much closer to the actual pronunciation of water, but prefers in all instances to drink juice. Still, even waduh is preferable to having milk in one's sippy cup. (For a long time just pronounced "mmm")
YEKYA
Sweet Alexa Hamway, his lady fair. James is always ready to play Yekya. On extra special days he gets to visit "Yekya's house" (And play TOYS) It's always interesting to see "whose" house he considers it to be. Hilltop, for example, is Aunt Kyee's house. My parents' place is Nama's house, and Julie's childhood home is Grandma's house. James' room, however is "me-yoom"
YOU
This is James. If James wants to be held he asks "Daddy hold YOU." And if you correct him and say "me," he will tell correct you back and say "no, YOU." It can be kind of confusing. I recently gave him the red engine number 5, who is also named James. This train is only referred to as "You."
DO ADAIN
Do again. Usually accompanied by vigorous chest rubbing, recalling the sign for "please" he used to make when he was little, and sometimes further specification about what he'd like to repeat. ("Do adain SPISH-SPISH.")
REED OOH-AH/REE-AH
This means that James would like you to read him a Curious George book out loud. Since this happens about 40-50 times a day (not exaggerating) he will often shorten "reed ooh-ah" to "ree-ah, ree-ah!"
DEEP FISH
Still not sure what this one means or where it came from, but he has a projector feature on his noise machine that shows an image of colorful fish on the ceiling at bedtime. Even when it's already on he'll ask for "deep fish" once we finish prayers. I don't know what he thinks about them, but it's a sweet final request before he goes down for the night.
AH DO
(emphasis on DO) This sometimes means "I do" but can also mean "yes." For example, when we read in Curious George and the Birthday Surprise "There were hats, games, decorations, and a cake. George wondered if the surprise was a party. Was it a party?" James will respond with an enthusiastic "Ah DO!"
HA DADDY
Apparently he is from the South. I get this greeting mostly when I come home from work, but occasionally it's the first thing he says in the morning when I go to get him up from his crib.
OH
Not just oh, but "OH!" with the circumflex accent. Again, this is mostly a roundabout way of saying yes. You'll be asking him whether he wants green car (no) or red car (no) or white car (OH!) and he takes up a full minor third swooping up and down.
oKAY
This is from Alexa, and another way of saying "yes." The o is barely present, just a soft launching point for a very enthusiastic KAY!
WHAT THAT BE?
His very elegant way of asking what something is. This is also how he determines where we left the car. "Mommy, where car be?" He can't say this unless he makes a questioning gesture with both hands at the same time.
WHAT IS (x) DOING?
This started out mostly as What is Mommy doing? or What is Daddy doing? Now he asks about all kinds people, things, and abstract ideas. It sort of became his version of the passive aggressive toddler "why" tactic for a while. For example, we'd put Wii sports on with O&K, and he'd ask "What is archery doing?"
SPISH SPISH
Spish-spish is car wash. More specifically it's the first and last of five car-washing noises, according to Curious George and the Car Wash. But mostly it's the car wash down the hill from us. The meaning of life is to visit spish-spish. "Daddy, I wanna go spish-spish. What is spish-spish doing?"
I WANT SPISH SPISH UP
We are fascinated by automatic garage doors. O&K have one, and there is one on each entrance to car wash. At O&Ks he will stand in the garage, point at the open door, and repeat endlessly "I want dat down. I want dat down. I want dat down." When we finally get our shoes off and set down whatever we're carrying, someone will attempt to mollify him by hitting the door button. He will watch in rapt silence, and as soon as the door is all the way down he immediately starts in on a chorus of "I want dat up. I want dat up." We've accepted it as a fact of life that whenever we drive out of our apartment he will watch out the backseat window to see whether the car wash exit door is open or closed, and then immediately plead for the opposite.
MOMMY'S CAR/DADDY'S CAR/NEW CAR
Mommy's car (the PT Cruiser) is no longer with us, replaced by a 2009 Toyota Corolla. But the Cruiser is not forgotten to James. He regularly asks to ride in it, and to take it through the car wash. We are awfully fond of new car--he's been including it in night time prayers ever since we bought it--but if he's put in his car seat in New Car, he immediately asks to ride in Daddy's Car.
OO-AH/DEE-DEE/NOTHER ONE DEE-DEE
One of our babysitters greeted Julie on the front porch the other day asking her whether she knew what an "oo-ah-dee-dee" was. (Another babysitter also told her that she couldn't figure out what "pish-pish" meant.) Oo-Ah is his stuffed Curious George, and Dee-Dee is the much beloved Steven Bear. He is perfectly capable of pronouncing both real names, but I think that Oo-Ah will only be George when we're reading about him. He does have a back up Steven Bear in considerably whiter condition who is called 'Nother One Dee-Dee. (Other Steven.)
WOOF-WOOF/MOW-MOW
Dogs and cats, of course. Since we love the Curious George TV series so much we've gotten to calling all black terriers Sharie (Charki) all weiner-looking dogs Hunny (Hundley) and any gray kittens Noogie. (Gnocchi.) For a while we thought that Grandma Davis would also be called Mow-Mow, but he's gotten better at saying Grandma.
GOOKIE
Strong accent on the first part of the word. We know we get gookies whenever we go to Wegmans, and whenever cookies are even mentioned James immediately exclaims that he wants a Gookie TOO! It didn't take him long to figure out that this phrase can be improved by reordering the words and saying "I want TWO Gookies!"
WIFE
James always asks for his wife in the morning. Not his spouse, of course, but a bowl of Life cereal. (Sometimes this comes out as "yife.") Even when he is actually in the mood for shredded wheat, he asks for wife first.
WAWER/WADUH
He's been getting much closer to the actual pronunciation of water, but prefers in all instances to drink juice. Still, even waduh is preferable to having milk in one's sippy cup. (For a long time just pronounced "mmm")
YEKYA
Sweet Alexa Hamway, his lady fair. James is always ready to play Yekya. On extra special days he gets to visit "Yekya's house" (And play TOYS) It's always interesting to see "whose" house he considers it to be. Hilltop, for example, is Aunt Kyee's house. My parents' place is Nama's house, and Julie's childhood home is Grandma's house. James' room, however is "me-yoom"
YOU
This is James. If James wants to be held he asks "Daddy hold YOU." And if you correct him and say "me," he will tell correct you back and say "no, YOU." It can be kind of confusing. I recently gave him the red engine number 5, who is also named James. This train is only referred to as "You."
DO ADAIN
Do again. Usually accompanied by vigorous chest rubbing, recalling the sign for "please" he used to make when he was little, and sometimes further specification about what he'd like to repeat. ("Do adain SPISH-SPISH.")
REED OOH-AH/REE-AH
This means that James would like you to read him a Curious George book out loud. Since this happens about 40-50 times a day (not exaggerating) he will often shorten "reed ooh-ah" to "ree-ah, ree-ah!"
DEEP FISH
Still not sure what this one means or where it came from, but he has a projector feature on his noise machine that shows an image of colorful fish on the ceiling at bedtime. Even when it's already on he'll ask for "deep fish" once we finish prayers. I don't know what he thinks about them, but it's a sweet final request before he goes down for the night.
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