On This Day

I think I need to start writing every day, even if it’s just a sentence or two, just something to say, “Hey, I was here all day on this wacky planet we call Earth. And to prove it, here is something that I did, or said, or thought on this day…”

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About a Girl

Girl With a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
Grade: B+

Girl With a Pearl Earring is a fictionalized account of how the famous Vermeer painting of the same name came to be. The Girl is a young Protestant woman named Griet. Her father was blinded in a horrible accident, and now she must support her family by working as a maid for the Catholic family of Johannes Vermeer.

Note: spoilers ahead.

I was immediately inclined to like Griet, because she had her own special way of looking at things. After cutting up vegetables for stew, she arranged them in a circle so that each type had its own section, “like a slice of pie.” She separated the orange and purple because, as she said, “The colors fight when they are side by side.” She also found clever ways to clean and dust Vermeer’s studio while making it look like she hadn’t moved anything. She was a smart, responsible girl and she knew her place.

But in order to believe the story, you must perceive Griet as a woman of passionate feelings. That is one way in which the novel failed. Griet would do something that seemed passionate, like slap someone, but she remained emotionally detached. For example, she felt that if she wore her hair free that it would let out her passionate side. When Vermeer accidentally saw her hair, she suddenly abandoned all propriety, went out to find her boyfriend, and let him have his way with her in an alleyway. All she said about the experience was this—“He gave me pain, but when I remembered my hair loose around my shoulders in the studio, I felt something like pleasure too. Afterwards, . . . I washed myself with vinegar.”

Vermeer, too, should have been passionate in order to paint as he did, and yet he was distant and decidedly unlikable in the way he commanded people to do his bidding with no consideration of the consequences. There was a climatic scene where Griet asked Vermeer to place the pearl earring into her ear. It was presumably supposed to be a symbolically sexual act, but since we had just read about how her ear was swollen and infected, it wasn’t entirely pleasant to imagine. It was in other ways an unsatisfactory love scene. Vermeer forced her to pierce her other ear (the one that isn’t shown in the painting), then he quickly finished the painting and sent her on her way. This was no thrilling sexual experience for Griet. It was wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

There were some other things that were hard to believe. As Griet told us early on, “It was not a house where secrets could be kept easily.” Yet most of the people in the house had secrets, some of which were kept for the duration of the novel. I found myself often wondering how Griet could assist Vermeer in making his paints without the whole world knowing. She reeked of linseed oil, her hands almost certainly must have been stained, and she disappeared for hours on end, and yet most of the family members didn’t notice.

I also found myself puzzled by some of the social details, such as the class and religious differences between Griet’s family and the Vermeers, and why Griet’s mother had to put aside her pride in the matter of Griet dating a butcher’s son. I blame my own ignorance, but then again, how can the average person be expected to know much about the society of 17th century Delft? A little more help from the author would have been appreciated.

So, after complaining about these things, how come it still gets a decent grade? I enjoyed it overall and I think that it is an educational book. I feel like I could now recognize at least a few of Vermeer’s paintings, and I will remember details about where and when he lived. The story is helping to keep that information in my brain in a way that simply reading the names and dates could not. There is a lot of value in that, and I recommend Girl With a Pearl Earring for that reason.

P.S. I also watched the movie version starring Colin Firth and Scarlett Johannson, and I recommend it because Firth is the master of the smoldering look and he puts it to excellent use here.

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Good Fortune

We had Chinese food for dinner the other night and I liked the fortune that came in my fortune cookie. I looked for the little scrap of paper today because I wanted to share that precious pearl of Ancient Chinese wisdom here on my blog, but I could not find it. When I asked my husband if he knew where it was, he said, “You mean the one that Peeps ate?”

Is there anything our cats won’t eat?

Anyway, the fortune said something like this: when you make a mistake, don’t think that you’re the mistake.

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The Last from 2009

Here is the last of the 2009 books (phew!).

The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie
Grade: B+

Morning has come and what a day is in store for Colonel and Mrs. Bantry, because there’s a dead body in their library! Mrs. Bantry immediately calls upon her old friend, Miss Marple, to solve the mystery before the community’s suspicions become permanently fixed on Colonel Bantry. Continue reading

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My Political Contribution

I’m so disappointed with the Democratic Party that I’m thinking about leaving it, but I’m not interested in any of the other nationally known parties, so I’ve decided to create my own. It’s called the CanMexAmerican Party.  The sole goal of this new political party is the unification of Canada, Mexico, and the United States into a single country called the United States of CanMexAmerica. Together we would have all the oil, cheap labor, and attitude necessary to ensure our status as the dominant world power. 😉

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The Marplethon Moves On

The Mousetrap (a.k.a. Three Blind Mice and Other Stories) by Agatha Christie
Grade: A

I enjoyed this collection of short stories by Agatha Christie. She had a good sense of humor and I agreed wholeheartedly with the character named Giles in the story “Three Blind Mice” when he said, “The trouble is that practically everything one does nowadays is illegal.” Ha-ha. In addition to that story, there are four Marples (“Strange Jest,” “Tape-Measure Murder,” “The Case of the Perfect Maid,” “The Case of the Caretaker.”), three Poirots (“The Third-Floor Flat,” “The Adventure of Johnny Waverly,” “Four and Twenty Blackbirds”) and one tale featuring a lesser-known character named Harley Quin (“The Love Detectives”). The short-story format works well for the genre and also makes for easy reading. I’m even half tempted to keep this book. Perhaps I will.

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Out With the Old

I need to finish writing about the books of 2009 so I can move on to the books of 2010 (of which there are already 3!). So here’s another 2009er.

Death in Zanzibar by M.M. Kaye
Grade: F

The main character, Dany, is traveling to Zanzibar. She’s very excited about the trip but has a scary dream (ooh–subtle use of foreshadowing!) and then, when she wakes up…

Dany shivered again. A shiver of pure delight that ended unexpectedly in a quiver of unease: a sense of disquiet so sharply urgent that she turned quickly, half expecting to find someone standing behind her. But nothing moved except the curtains billowing idly in the dawn wind, and of course there was no one there. And no one watching her! It was only the effect of that silly dream about people following her…

This scene takes place at a hotel in London, where she next accidentally locks herself out of her room while wearing only a diaphanous nightgown. She is “rescued” by the guy staying in the room across the hall. His name is Lash (short for Lashmer). He’s only just returned from a night out on the town and he’s still completely plastered. When Dany gets back into her room, she finds that someone has stolen her passport and planted a gun among her things. Then she reads the newspaper. Someone she saw yesterday is now dead of a gunshot wound and a young lady matching Dany’s description is wanted by the police for questioning. Geez. This is going to put a crimp in her plans.

“No!” said Dany on a sob. “Oh no! I can’t stay here. I won’t. I will go to Zanzibar. They shan’t stop me.”

So Dany again asks for help from the man across the hall. Lash, who is also traveling to Zanzibar, suggests that she impersonate his secretary all the way there, and even gives her his secretary’s passport to use. And Dany agrees to this scheme, because Dany is such an innocent that she doesn’t recognize drunkenness when she sees it and doesn’t realize how crazy and illegal such a course of action is.

Talk about preposterous. But it gets worse.

I must be going out of my mind! thought Dany, astounded at herself. And anyway, he’s in love with that Gordon woman, and he’s been drinking himself silly because she threw him over. He doesn’t care one bit what happens to me. All he wants to do is get rid of me as soon as possible. He’s selfish and stupid and spoiled and egotistical, and he drinks. And drinks!

But it was no use. She could not even feel indignant about it, and she still wanted to stroke his hair and comfort him. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, thought Dany. I suppose this is it!

By “it” our dear Dany means love. She has fallen in love with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Drunken.

And she hasn’t even gotten to Zanzibar yet!

What happens next? I assume she gets to Zanzibar, has a couple of close brushes with death, solves the mystery, and then snuggles up with her new honey, Lash. But I don’t know because I didn’t finish the book.

Originally, I wasn’t even going to mention Death in Zanzibar let alone grade it, but then I changed my mind. If it turned me off that much, doesn’t that mean it failed? And isn’t that what the grade “F” is for?

Typically I give a book three chances to win me over. I call it my “three strikes and you’re out” rule. It’s a good rule for me because sometimes I just can’t get into a particular book at a particular time. Both Bronte’s Jane Eyre and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy got two strikes each. Now they are both favorites and I’m glad I gave them another try. So why not give Death in Zanzibar three tries? Because it’s not a classic and it belongs to a genre that’s known to contain a lot of garbage. And look at the parts I quoted. Doesn’t it look like garbage?

P.S. Sorry, M.M. Kaye, for calling your book garbage. I still love some of your other books.

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More Bad, More Good

I’m in a bad mood tonight. It’s a combination of things.

First, my piano doesn’t sound right. I had convinced myself that it would be OK once the store’s technician came out to do the tuning and voicing. But if anything, it sounds worse now. I’m not looking forward to resolving this problem, but believe me, it will be resolved. I don’t pay that kind of money for something I can’t use.

Second, as you know, my cats are sick. It just sucks that this is happening again and I’m worried for them. I wish I could feel confident that they’ll be cured soon.

Third, one of my old friends has cancer and it has metastasized. He has a wife and child and lots of people who love him and it’s horrible that they all have to go through this. And it’s scary to me personally because he was born in the same year as I was. He’s only 37. People our age should not have cancer.

Fourth, it occurred to me yesterday that I may have made some financial mistakes, and they’re not going to be fun to fix.

Last but not least, I have to take the Christmas tree down this weekend. I hate doing that. It’s a lot of work putting all the ornaments away and it’s depressing.

But, just to state for the record what has always been sort of an unspoken rule here, I’m not allowed to bitch and moan incessantly. There has to be some positive statement at the end of my bitchfest as proof that it isn’t all bad. Because it’s not all bad. It’s never all bad.

Positive: I played the piano again today, listening very carefully, and I’m convinced that there’s something mechanically wrong with it. That makes my next course of action very clear. Call the store tomorrow and demand that they fix it or replace it. Period amen.

More positive: I called my Faithful Reader to ask that he bring me home some deliciously naughty food. I was only looking for comfort food, but the sound of his voice gave me comfort, too. Just talking to him for a few minutes cheered me up.

More more positive: My son is so close to crawling and it’s so much fun watching him learn. I fed him pureed carrot today and he smeared it all over his face. He’s precious, funny, beautiful, and everything else that’s good in the world.

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No Comparison

I am reminded today that comparisons are dangerous. You can go along being perfectly happy with something in your life until you find out that someone else has something better. “That’s not fair,” you say. “I should have that!” Whether it’s your house or your salary, your looks or your child’s accomplishments, there are going to be people out there who have it better than you do. So if you’re going to play the game of comparisons, you had better remember to consider the people who have less than you do, too. Chances are, if you live in the US, there are millions (maybe even billions) of people who have cause to envy you.

I’m only preaching to myself here, folks, not pointing any fingers, but I figure it can’t hurt to share.

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It’s Not All Bad

We learned for sure today what we have suspected for a while, that Mojo is not the only sick cat in the house. Peeps and Zoulie are also showing symptoms. When they were all sick before, we were almost certain the culprit was coccidia. Peeps had come from “the kitty farm,” and it’s not unusual for pound kittens to catch parasites or for them to have trouble fighting the parasites off. The treatment for coccidia seemed to cure them. But it is very unlikely that coccidia would strike them again now. They’re all adults and they all live indoors, away from other potentially infected cats. It also seems unlikely that all of the cats would have a food allergy or cancer. It’s probably not the water, because we were on city water then and we’re on well water now.

But it’s theoretically possible that the food is to blame, since it’s the same brand we were feeding them back then. Maybe there’s melamine (or worse) in there. Who knows? Take a moment to look up “cat food problems” on the Internet, and you’ll soon be disgusted by the ingredients that some people claim are in there—chicken heads, rancid oil, intestines, moldy grains, not to mention parts from dead cats and dogs. Yuck. How much of it is true? Based on my personal experience and understanding of the world, it could all be true. It probably isn’t. I shouldn’t be. But it could be.

The problem could even be caused by something not in the food. One brand of dry cat food was recently recalled because it lacked sufficient levels of thiamine to keep cats healthy.

It could be almost anything, really. I just hope that if it’s a disease, it’s not something that our son could catch.

Now I need to stop worrying so much. Contrary to common opinion, venting doesn’t make you feel better. By focusing on your negative emotions, you become consumed by them. It is best just to deal with the matter—talk to the vets again, give the cats any medicines they need, buy a different brand of food—and turn my thoughts to the positive things.

Positives: Separating Mojo from the other cats helped us be sure that he wasn’t the only sick cat. It also forced me to clean out my office, and overall it’s much nicer in here, even if it does smell like cat food. And I’m happy to report that Mojo seems to be a little better today. He’s been moving around more, eating more, and using his litter box.

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