Oh, it’s been quiet around here, hasn’t it? It’s a good quiet. A lazy summery sort of quiet. I’ve been envying my friends and colleagues who are taking 3 week long vacations, and as a result have been trying to have as relaxing a time as possible on the weekends.
(I tell you, stuffing 3 weeks of vacation into 2 days is not as easy as it may sound.)
But life is good. Even if it does make for a slow news day.
Recently I found myself at the Canadian Peace Officers’ Memorial Association website. (It’s for work. I know, strange job I have…) There I was pleased to find the website editor had a fondness for unnecessary quotes. Especially this one:
Nod, nod. Wink, wink, “No Firearms”, at the reception? Oh my!
Here we get to know Queequeg. (Remember him? He was the savage harpoonist that Ishmael had to bunk in with on his first night at the inn.) Queequeg had tatoos all over his body, and English was not his first language. He was downright scary looking.
But, as our protagonist gets to know Queequeg, he finds his strangeness agreeable. He’d even go so far as to compliment his head, saying it was, phrenologically an excellent one. High praise, indeed!
So Ishmael and Queequeg hit it off and become like brothers. We hear how noble he is (he jumps right in the water to save a drowning sailor – in fact one who earlier was mocking him!) and we learn a bit more about his culture (he’s a King on his island!) I think we’re going to see a lot more of this friendly cannibal in future chapters.
Not too long ago, I innocently went downstairs to deposit our recycling. What did I see in the Discards pile but a whole stack of dishes! There were probably 60 plates and bowls, two different styles, but all in excellent condition.
I (quickly) rifled through the stacks and chose 6 dinner plates, 6 small plates and 5 bowls. (I could have taken more, but I wanted to share the wealth with our other neighbours.)
An interesting sidenote, I went down again about 20 minutes later (more recycling!!) and found all the dishes were gone. Good thing I acted quickly!
It’s a funny thing about breathing. You only notice it when there are issues. During those hot and hazy days of July, I noticed a hitch in my breathing. It wasn’t serious, and I’m quite confident it’s entirely environmental, but it’s curious. Is there anything we take for granted more than each breath we take? (Perhaps our mother’s love? Or possibly, one’s confidence in choosing any dessert made with peanut butter and chocolate? But I digress…)
It was an interesting reminder, as I tried to do my yoga breathing and squash the oxygen down to the bottom of my lungs. But a few days later it rained and then, for a few hours at least, I noticed my breathing for what I could do, rather than what I couldn’t do. Marvellous things, our bodies, aren’t they?
This morning I enjoyed the most delicious cup of coffee. I only had 12 minutes before being where I had to be, but I had my heart set on a coffee and so I went for it.
A short bold, plenty of half-and-half.
It did not disappoint. I had a friend one time who smoked. She said that average cigarettes weren’t that great (standing in the cold and the wind, rushing through 10 minute breaks at work, bearing the disapproval of onlookers…) but that the good ones were really good. Today’s coffee was worth all the watered down, 3 hour old, too-quickly-cooling-in-paper-cups coffees I’ve endured. Today’s coffee was that good. Thank you, Starbucks, for making my day.
Photo by Shinsaku on Flickr
When we left our intrepid traveller, he had woken up in the arms of a cannibal harpoonist. Ishmael’s day continued with a surprisingly quiet breakfast (apparently these fishermen keep their yarns to themselves). Then because it was Sunday, it was off to church. Just like the inn, the church seems suspiciously ship-like. The pulpit was like the bow of a ship, the captain, I mean preacher, referred referred to his parishoners as “shipmates” and the sermon title? The Tale of Jonah. (Right. I get the theme, Melville. Thank you.)
As a side note, there’s been a lot of talk of escaping and of justice and of deserved punishment. Makes me wonder, what is Ishmael is running from? And when the storm hits Ishmael, because we know it will hit, what is he being judged for? (Remember our bible lessons? Ishmael is the eldest son of Abraham (with the handmaiden Hagar.) It was said he would become a wild donkey of a man and would live in hostility toward all his brothers.” (Gen 16) What does that mean about our hero?
Sidenote #2: Tonight on Jeopardy:
Answer: His 1841-42 South Pacific voyage aboard the whaler Acushnet provided the basis for his most famous novel.
Question: Who is Herman Melville!
Here are the interesting parts of the video of M, C, R, M, and N riding the rapids on the Ottawa river… The things we do for a thrill…
I took out the sound because it wasn’t us, it was just bad music and an even worse commentator! I might add in some music later! Hum to yourself in the meantime!
The other day, I learned I have a new favourite thing: when friends come over and help themselves to getting a glass from the cupboard and ice from the freezer. What a nice feeling to have people around you that are comfortable enough to rummage through your kitchen to get what they need.
Stupid poplar trees,
harbinger of autumn. Why
so early? August?!?
