Friday, December 20, 2024

Not All Comfort and Joy in the Dead of Winter

The Dead of Winter: The Demons, Witches and Ghosts of Christmas
by Sarah Clegg
published by Granta
ISBN 9781803511535
Let me start off by saying that I love this book! It's informative and fun--once I started it, I was all in and could not put it down. The author states her intention at the beginning:

'This is my account of a winter spent with monsters, but it's also an effort to understand their history, where and when they originated, and why they take the forms they do.It is an attempt as well to understand why we are so drawn to horrors at Christmastime.' (p 9)

She accomplishes her goals and more. Clegg takes readers with her as she visits various midwinter festivals, even as she begins with Carnival, just before Lent, since as she says, this is what Christmas used to be like when Saturnalia was still celebrated. She also attends the Mummer's Play on December 26th in the Cotswolds, The Chipstow (Wales) Wassail in on January 20th, The Salzburg Krampus Run on December 5th, Lucy's Night in Finland on December 13th, and solstice at Stonehenge on December 22nd.

In each place, she participates, observes, and digs deeper to discover how each particular festival evolved, what came before it, and how each fits into a larger context. This is a slim volume, but it's packed full of fascinating history. Perhaps surprisingly for a book that's about the darker side of Christmas, it's also funny. I found myself laughing more than once. Clegg has a very dry humor, which I love and it comes through in her excellent writing. This is particularly true in the footnotes. I usually don't care much for footnotes, but in this case they added so much to the book that I was glad they were there. Finally, the cover art is fabulous!

I'll end where I began--I love this book and I highly recommend it! 

Thursday, December 19, 2024

Small Act of Kindness

 The other day, we went to Donegal town to get supplies for the Christmas Eve slow cooker lasagna and some other groceries. It was a fairly dark day, which meant that the Christmas lights were on in the various towns and villages we traveled through on our way there and back. It made for quite a pleasant journey.
Donegal town at 12:30 pm on a rainy December day

In one of the villages, a guy was waiting at the bus stop. He was an older gent, of an age where he would qualify for the free travel pass given to all Irish people when they turn 66. He didn't have one, though. He also didn't have cash and tried to pay his fare with a card, which the driver has no way to accept. The result of the brief conversation was that the guy sat down and rode into Donegal town without paying. When we arrived, he told the driver he'd be right back with some cash. In a few minutes, he returned and the driver drove off to begin his break. It was kind of him to trust the guy and allow him to ride into town. Clearly he is not a regular because he didn't know he needed cash. Since he didn't have a travel pass, he may have been a visitor. He wasn't on the return trip.

I've noticed the kindness of bus drivers through the years we've been here--and we've ridden a lot of buses! A few years ago, when we lived in a different village and rode a different bus, we were on the Local Link waiting to go home from Dungloe. The bus picked us up at Aldi and Joe, the driver, asked if we were in a hurry. Of course we weren't, because there was a 20 minute gap between the Aldi pick-up time and the Main St departure time anyway. He said he was going to look for some passengers he was expecting to be there. He didn't find them. He drove down the street to Lidl. He didn't find them. We went to Main St to the regular stop. They didn't appear. We left for the trip home. Instead of turning down the usual road, he went back down towards the cluster of grocery stores. As we passed Aldi, I saw a group of people standing outside with a very full trolley, waving. 'There they are!' I said. He turned around and drove into the car park. They loaded their groceries into the bus and off we went. When we got to Bunbeg, Joe stopped and waited a few minutes so a guy in the group could get what he needed in the pharmacy. No one grumbled or was impatient. The family was from Tory Island and if they'd missed the bus, they would've missed their ferry home. We were all glad to wait for them to do what they needed to do on the 'mainland' and head home with their supplies.

These are small acts of kindness, but in these times when people seem to revel in ugliness and nastiness, I think it's important to notice kindness when it shows up.

Tuesday, December 17, 2024

A Few More Spine Poems

 
The Woman in White,
Far from the Madding Crowd--
A Ghost in the Throat

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, this edition published by the aptly named Collins Classics
Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, this edition published by Penguin Popular Classics
A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ní Ghríofa, published by Tramp Press

Loved Woman in White. Picked up Hardy in a charity shop, but have yet to read it. I haven't read any Hardy, and only know he's depressing, but I'll get to it eventually. I think it will have to be the right time. Ghost in the Throat is an incredible book that I have sitting next to me in the living room--it's at the top of the pile and I want to re-read it soon.

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
Taking the Leap--
A Struggle for Fame

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell, this edition published by Grafton Books
Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears by Pema Chodron, published by Shambhala
A Struggle for Fame by Charlotte Riddell, published by Tramp Press

A friend gave me the Tressell book several years ago when he was clearing out some things. It belonged to his late wife. I've heard good things about it, but haven't yet read it. It's just under Ghost in the Throat on my pile and will be read soon. It's not an exaggeration to say that Pema Chodron's work saved my life during a very bad time. She's very practical and filled with common sense. I just finished A Struggle for Fame, a less well known classic by an Irish writer. I was expecting something Gaskell-esque, but it's different. I enjoyed it a lot.


The Chalk Pit
To the Lighthouse--
Frost in May

The Chalk Pit by Elly Griffiths, published by Quercus
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, this edition published by Wordsworth Editions
Frost in May by Antonia White, published by Virago Modern Classics

Chalk Pit was a charity shop find that I brought home for some future moment when I feel like reading a mystery. It's one of the Dr Ruth Galloway series, which I find reliably good, so I know that when I'm tired or something, I can pick it up and get into it. To the Lighthouse was also bought at a charity shop. I read it decades ago and will re-read at some point. Frost in May is by an author I'd never heard of until last week, when we were in a charity shop and I saw it on the shelf. I bought it because of the publisher and the blurb. I'm about halfway through it and it's quite good, if very chilling.


Monday, December 16, 2024

A Few Spine Poems

 
The Light Eaters(')
Bewilderment--
The Great Transformation

Light Eaters: The New Science of Plant Intelligence by Zoe Schlanger, published by 4th Estate (the ' is my addition)
Bewilderment by Richard Powers, published by Vintage
The Great Transformation by Karl Polanyi, published by Penguin Modern Classics

Highly recommend all of the above.

Dear Mrs. Bird,
There is Nothing for You Here--
Bleak House

Dear Mrs. Bird by AJ Pearce, published by Picador
There is Nothing for You Here by Fiona Hill, published by Mariner Press
Bleak House by Charles Dickens, this edition published by Wordsworth Editions

I picked up the first title oin a charity shop and have yet to read it. Fiona Hill's book is excellent. Bleak House is in my plans--last read it decades ago (I think I read it), but plan to (re) read soon.


Emma,
The Blind Assassin--
Can You Forgive Her?

Emma by Jane Austen, this edition published by Penguin Popular Classics
The Blind assassin by Margaret Atwood, published by Virago
Can You Forgive Her, by Anthony Trollope, this edition published by The World's Classics

I liked Emma, loved The Blind Assassin, and haven't read the Trollope in decades. When Bill and I first got together, he talked about the Palliser series, of which this is the first one. I checked out a couple of books at a time from the library while I was pregnant. That was long ago and far away and it's also in my re-read plans.

Saturday, December 14, 2024

Annual Posting of Snow

 I've posted this song every December for the past several years, I think, and here it is in 2024. I first heard this song more than 25 years ago on a radio show that featured quiet, peaceful music and I fell in love with the song and later, Loreena McKennitt's work in general. She's a Canadian artist with a wide range of musical interests and influences. This is one of my favorite seasonal songs and I have listened to it countless times in the last quarter century. 


I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Not Lookin' at You

 Yesterday we were out doing errands, walking along and talking, when I noticed a woman coming towards us. 'That's beautiful!' she exclaimed as she got closer and grabbed a corner of my poncho. 


She asked if I'd made it. I said I had. She repeated that it was beautiful, then said, 'I'm a crocheter, so I notice these things.' We laughed. She was on her way somewhere and we didn't chat longer than that, so I didn't have time to tell her that the squares were made on my pin loom, but the edgings are crocheted. It really didn't matter. We shared a chuckle over our yarny loves and it was a happy, unexpected moment of good cheer on a frosty afternoon. There have been countless times through the years where I notice someone wearing something made of yarn and I try to get a closer look without them knowing I'm looking. I always want to say, 'I'm not lookin' at you.  I'm just interested in your yarn.' Sometimes I do ask if the person made what they're wearing and I compliment them on it. If they did, they usually brighten up and respond like I always do when someone approaches me--with a smile and a short comment about it. It makes me happy and it's a nice change from commenting about the weather 😉😏


Monday, December 9, 2024

Who Pays the Price?

 I learned about this book whilst looking for information about the author's latest one.


It's a book that reads like a novel, but is depressingly, disturbingly, terribly true. It's about greed, desperation, deception, delusion. As the author states, "This is the story of those Americans who've wrestled with the price their communities have long paid so the rest of us can plug in our phones. Some feel that price was worth paying; others don't." (p 308)

When Stacey Haney signed a lease with a fracking company, she was hoping to get enough money to rebuild her barn. Besides, everyone around her was signing, too. She had no idea what these leases would end up costing her. As it happened, whether or not she signed her own lease, the nightmare that quickly followed would have appeared anyway, because of the others. The larger farm up the hill was ground zero for the operation--things literally and figuratively went downhill from there, contaminating water and air. Stacey's son became seriously ill. Their animals began to die. A stench permeated her home. She and her daughter felt unwell. The neighbors thought she was overreacting. They closed their eyes and refused to consider that there was a great deal going wrong. People began to treat her differently--they wanted no fuss that would make the company take their dollars away. One neighbor said that if his water was too toxic to drink, he'd just switch to beer. Nice. Stacey persevered, at high cost to herself, financially, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and finally found people to help her fight back.

This is Stacey's story. This is her family's story. This is a community's story. This is the story of the ongoing degradation of our habitat in the service of a wasteful and unsustainable way of life. This is the story of how some of us can afford to live in our delusions about the true cost of our lifestyles and some cannot. This is a story about grit, dedication, and determination. This is a story about the failure of individuals, government and industry. This is a story that is far too common and too little acknowledged. This is a story well worth your time.

Thursday, December 5, 2024

The Sometimes Stupid Results of Human Intelligence

 I was looking up another book when I came across this title and immediately requested it from the library. I just finished it the other day and I'm glad I discovered it.


This is Justin Gregg's description of the book:

He's arguing that humans are often too intelligent for our own good--and that makes us stupid. He uses many examples to illustrate what he means throughout the book. One that will stick with me for a long time is that of the bungee jumper. He spent some time investigating one particular jump from a railroad trestle onto a concrete surface below. It was 70 feet, so he did his (mis)calculations, taped together (!!!) several bungee cords to get one that was 70 feet in length. You see the problem here. He tied the cord to his ankles, took a leap, and a jogger found his body a short time later. His grandmother reportedly commented that he was smart in school. Gregg points out that his jump required a great deal of cognitive skill. In order to even want to make this leap, he would have anticipated the rush he would feel during and after completion. He had to be able to plan in advance, measure, and more. Gregg compares these cognitive processes to our close relatives, chimpanzees. Chimps would not have the intelligence to do the things required to envision, prepare, and complete the jump. Since chimps lack the necessary cognitive processes to do this, they wouldn't. A chimp, he says, '...for the record, would never tie a rope around his ankles and fling himself off a railroad trestle in pursuit of an endorphin rush.' (p. 226) It was the jumper's intelligence that led to his death.

Gregg turns his focus to 6 different broad categories and discusses his arguments as related to each one. I'll just briefly state what they are, but he goes into greater detail with plenty of examples throughout each chapter.

 First, he labels humans 'why specialists.' We ask why looking for answers to questions about cause and effect. Is this a biological advantage for us? Gregg thinks it probably isn't. He points out that this isn't something that humans did for most of our evolutionary history. We often THINK we understand causes and effects, but we're often wrong, which leads us into trouble quite often. 

His chapter on lying was fascinating as he discussed the fact that humans are hard-wired to both lie and believe others. These are both evolutionary advantages, apparently. He explained the Truth Default Theory. A friend and I had an email conversation about this. She said it explained some things about herself. I felt it was not at all my experience. My default is to believe nothing anyone says until I experience the truth of it. It would be easier to just believe things, perhaps, but I never have and probably won't start at this late date!

Next, he writes about 'death wisdom.' Animals have concepts of death to varying degrees, but humans have a deep understanding of death, the ability to foresee the future (and our own deaths), and the desire to want some kind of immortality. This can lead to bad biological outcomes, like religious wars, but also a desire to achieve some sort of lasting acclaim, which can lead to exploitation in pursuit of power. He describes some fascinating bird studies and their results in this chapter.

He includes a chapter on morality, correctly pointing out that definitions of what is moral are culturally determined. Misunderstandings between cultures in this regard lead to harmful behavior.

Gregg does love his bees and they take center stage in his chapter on consciousness, which is connected to emotion. Obviously, emotions can lead to all sorts of disadvantageous action.

Finally, he explains prognostic myopia, which is the human capability to understand a future problem and then pretend not to see it. Climate change is a big example in this chapter. He uses himself to illustrate this. He knows climate change will affect himself to some degree, his children more, and their children even more. He knows the activities he engages in today will contribute to making life hell for his great-granddaughter, but he still drives places, flies, and buys bananas from afar (he lives in Canada). 

Gregg's argument is not that various animals are smarter because they're making better decisions than humans. Rather he's saying that with all of our brainpower, we create more problems for ourselves. His chickens, he says, have perfectly happy chicken lives as they peck around from day to day. They're not thinking about tomorrow, asking why, ignoring future catastrophic problems, or engaging in wars about what happens after they die. They're just being chickens. We're just being humans. But because we have brains that allow us to do different kinds of thinking, we create messes. Our intelligence makes us stupid.

I loved this book. It was extremely interesting, very informative, provided much food for thought, and it was funny, too. I'm glad I found it!







Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Philosophically Speaking

 This morning I woke up, looked at the clock, saw that it was 8:30, and groaned. I would have to get up. I didn't want to get up. In fact, I would have been very happy to fall right back to sleep for another hour or so, as my body was desperately urging me to do. But we had an appointment at the pharmacy for our COVID booster jabs, so I talked myself into rising. I did rise, but I drew the line at shining. That was a bridge too far at 8:30 am. I did perk up a little as I talked myself into functionality, remembering that my book was being delivered today and was downstairs waiting for me. We did what we needed to do, went to the pharmacy, waited a few minutes, got our jabs, and were asked to wait for 5 minutes just to make sure all would be well. I thought, but did not say, that while I didn't think the vaccine would cause me any immediate distress, the overpowering smell from the candles and other intensely scented things just might. Bill went first and then the pharmacist was helping someone who walked in before he got to me, so he had more than 5 minutes, but I couldn't make it that long. I sat there for a couple minutes and left. It was a relief to get outside into the brisk and breezy morning. 

I'd left my book downstairs when we exited the building and eagerly grabbed it when we returned home.


The other day, I read this book:
It was quite good and I'm looking forward to reading the author's slim volume on the Stoics when the ebook arrives in a week or two. Of course I had to look at the 'further reading' section (as you do), which can be delightfully dangerous. It was there that I found the Grayling book, which I looked up and decided I wanted to read. At first I placed a request from the library, but then I decided it's a book I'd rather own. I laughed when I saw the Washington Post blurb on the cover about scribbling in it, because that's exactly what I anticipate doing--lots of margin notes and underlines and things. Bill ordered the book from Kenny's on Saturday night, it left their shop Monday, and arrived while I slept this morning. I'm excited to read this because I've been wanting to read more Western philosophy, which is a subject I'm not that knowledgeable about in any depth. This looks intense, but like an excellent book to have and refer to in future as well as being a good foundation for further reading. It was worth getting up for.

Saturday, November 30, 2024

The Outlier

 This morning I was thinking about my fondest Irish Christmas memories. These memories are not of spectacular moments or bucket list activities. No. These memories are about remembering the peace and joy I experienced as Bill and I walked around at twilight or in the dark, in mizzle/light rain, on or just before Christmas Eve. It was quiet. Lights were sparkling. The rain fell softly or misted down. It was beautiful.
Interestingly, but possibly not surprisingly, these memories do not include people, other than Bill. Indeed, one of the things that stands out in my mind about all of these moments is the fact that there were no people around. All except one moment, that is.

It was our second Christmas in Ireland and our first in a terraced cottage with neighbors that had quickly become friends. We were having Christmas dinner together in the home of one, who I'll call Jack, although we were all in and out of our own cottages throughout the day. Joining us was Jack's brother-in-law, who I'll call Clarence. Clarence was in his 70s, had some mental health issues, and had been through a great deal. He lived in an assisted living facility and really liked his routine. He liked to be out and about, but only for a short period of time. He got anxious once he'd gone beyond his limit. Bill and I had met him and interacted with him before--he even came to our cottage for afternoon tea once by then--so he knew us and was comfortable around us. We were the newbies and he'd known the others for years. We were having a nice time, eating a delicious dinner and enjoying each other's company. After dinner, there were crackers to pull. I'd read about this tradition, but hadn't experienced it, so I was already interested. We weren't a large group--there were 6 of us--and Clarence was sitting across the table and one seat over from me, so I wasn't pulling the crackers with him, but I heard laughter and looked over at him. His face was lit up with pure joy as he laughed and laughed. He placed the paper crown on his head. He was enjoying himself so very much. His anxiety about going home was nowhere to be found. He was in the moment, delighted with it, and expressing the joy he was feeling. It was a beautiful thing to see. Clarence passed away a few years after that Christmas, but I will always remember him with his paper crown reveling in pure joy.

Oddly enough, a couple of hours after I took my trip down Festive Memory Lane, I got a message from Jack who was on his way home on a bus. He sent me a picture of a place in the town he was riding through and said it used to be a favorite of himself and Clarence. I told him I'd just been thinking about Clarence and shared the memory. His reply was simple. 'Thank you,' he said.

May we all remember that the most joy might just be found in the simplest moments and in things like a silly Christmas cracker with a funny paper crown inside. Or on a quiet walk in the mizzly dark. Or whatever it is that brings you peace and contentment. Look for them. Experience them. Embrace them. I wish for you an abundance of those moments and the happy memories they create.

Thursday, November 28, 2024

Happy Thanksgiving (or Thursday)

 Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate today and happy Thursday if you don't. Of course, every day is a good day to remember all we have to be thankful for.

I'm taking a break from the kitchen at the moment. A friend is coming to join us today. I'll have leftovers for the weekend. It smells wonderful in here. It's raining and my friends the clouds have kept the sun hidden from my view. May your day be equally lovely, in whatever way that looks to you.



Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Stupidity, Philosophy, Unexpected Activism

 Before we left for Donegal town yesterday morning, I knew I had a couple of books in. I was hoping that my request that was in transit would arrive before I did and I lucked out--it did. Here's what I brought home yesterday:


I discovered this book when I was looking up information about another book by the same author. I requested both at the same time, but this one took longer to arrive. The other book was excellent and I have no reason to doubt that this one will be too. Bill is reading it first, so I will pick up one of the others.

I'm thinking I might start here:

This one was also found in the course of getting information about another book. I was scrolling through the e-audiobooks on the library Borrow Box site when I came across one called The Psychology of Stupidity. I wanted to know more about it before I put it on reserve, since we get 5 at a time (which includes both those borrowed and those on reserve) and I don't like to waste a slot if I can help it. In the course of looking that up, I discovered this title. I ended up requesting both and the audiobook should be available for me to download next week. I'll read this one before I download that.

Finally, I have this little book, which I read about in a book blog quite recently, although I can't remember which one. The blogger quite liked the book and others in the series, so I looked up this book specifically and looked up the author on the Borrow Box page, where I found his little book on the Stoics. That should be available for me in a week or two.
I feel the urge to read some classics coming on, so I will be picking up some Victorian literature soon, either after I read these or alongside them. 

What are you reading? Hope it's great, whatever it is!


Sunday, November 24, 2024

Respectable, Sensible, Aging Hippies and Bert

 Inside: 
two respectable, sensible, aging hippies*
sit in quiet well-matured companionship,
reading.

Outside:
rippling rivulets of rain race
to the bottom of the window
while wind whistles and whines.

Storm Bert likes it well enough here
to stay.


*When we first moved to Ireland, I was at a neighbor's birthday party and in conversation with another neighbor, who told me that she'd seen us walking around with our backpacks and was glad to see respectable people moving in. She was pretty toasted by then, so I didn't bother to ask her about the connection between backpacks and respectability and what exactly made her think we were respectable. The following year, we were in the process of moving (via bus, so going back and forth between dwellings for a few weeks) and we met our new near neighbors (I'll call them Jack and Jill), albeit at different times. Later, Jill said that Jack told her we seemed nice and very sensible. She asked him what he meant by that and said that we seemed like aging hippies to her. I continue to find this very funny and have referred to myself as a respectable, sensible, aging hippie many times. Once another friend called me a respectable aging hippy, but I quickly corrected her. 'I am a respectable, SENSIBLE, aging hippy. I like to claim all the titles that have been bestowed upon me.' And we had a laugh.

Saturday, November 23, 2024

No Hesitation!

 Woke up this morning to a power cut due to Storm Bert. It lasted 9 1/2 hours. Power was restored at about 1:15. As soon as it came back on, I fairly flew over to the coffee maker, turned on the outlet and the machine itself and hoped for the best. Drip, drip, drip until we had a full pot. We had a cup. We lost power again. We had some more and I gave thanks that I didn't hesitate, but got that coffee going as soon as I could. Whew! Power came back on an hour or two later. Some around here are still without power and they have a water outage to boot! I hope they got their coffee somewhere.

More wind is expected tomorrow and we've been told that more power cuts are possible (as they always are, I suppose), especially tomorrow night. I have an audiobook on my mp3 player and a charged up e-reader, which does not require any other lighting. I hope the power stays on, but at least I can occupy myself if it doesn't. We have rechargeable desk lamps and headlamps, but if the power goes out, it's probably not a good idea to use up all the charge for reading.

Earlier today, I took advantage of the daylight--what there was of it--to read this short story collection:

Sometimes strange stories, quite open-ended, but quite good. I like the cover art, too.

Hope you didn't have to wait for your morning beverage and that your day is delightful!

Thursday, November 21, 2024

Think Carefully, Gift Givers

 Bill just got an email from his dentist informing him that their Black Friday sale begins on Monday. One can apparently 'give the gift of a sparkling smile' or something like that. Is this really a good idea?  Maybe if Santa sparkles up his smile it'll be so dazzling that Rudolph can take this year off. But I can see this going horribly wrong. Imagine the happy moment on Christmas morning when someone opens an eagerly awaited gift from someone special only to discover a teeth whitening kit or a voucher for dental work and wondering if they're trying to send a message. That could end the festive mood in a hurry. I'm not a Black Friday fan anyway, but I think some businesses are less suited to it than others. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

More Muffins

 Yesterday I updated my post to include a link to the recipe I use for cranberry orange muffins. This is one of several adaptations I've come up with based on a plain muffin recipe I found in The New Laurel's Kitchen Cookbook almost 40 years ago! How can it be that I've been riffing on this for almost 4 decades!?  I like the original recipe, but I usually make one of my adaptations. When I make muffins, it's almost always one of these. I thought it might be useful to put links to the various adaptations in one place. We love all of them and since they're pretty healthy, they're good to have around for breakfast, snacks, or even dessert. When I was in grad school, I often took one for lunch. I'd split it open, top with yogurt, and add fresh fruit. I'll link again to the cranberry orange muffins, just so they're all in one place. I'm sure there are many, many other variations that others can come up with--the recipe is easily adapted to suit your taste. I should say that these are not the kind of muffins that one gets in supermarkets, warehouse stores, and bakeries. They're not extremely sweet, although you can add more sugar if you want; they're not greasy, and they're not overly fluffy. 

Several years ago, a friend who ate a plant based diet, made these vegan by leaving out the egg and using plant milk. I wasn't able to try these as we didn't live near one another, but she loved them and made them a lot, she said.

All links will open in a new window.

Muffins

Cranberry Orange I'll add that for these, adding a teaspoon or so of vanilla or almond extract is nice. Also, you can use blueberries, fresh or frozen, instead of cranberries.

It appears that when I originally posted this, I just linked back to the recipe above and mentioned adjustments and substitutions. To save clicks, I'll just put the entire recipe here:
Chocolate Chunk Raspberry Muffins
Place two cups of jumbo porridge oats/old fashioned rolled oats into a container and cover with 1 1/2 cups of milk. Place in fridge for several hours or overnight.

Preheat oven to 180 C (fan oven)/400 F. Place soaked oats in a bowl and add 1 to 3 tablespoons of (granulated, brown, or demerera) sugar (according to your taste) and one egg. Add a teaspoon of vanilla or almond extract, if desired. Mix in.

Add 1 cup of wholemeal/whole wheat flour and 1 teaspoon each bread/baking soda and salt. Stir in until incorporated.

Fold in about a cup of raspberries (fresh or frozen) and some chocolate chips, or a mix of chocolate chips and nuts.

Spoon into greased or lined muffin tins and bake for 15-20 minutes or until golden brown--timing depends a lot on the oven, so I just keep an eye on them.






As you can tell, in cooking as in life, I'm very much an improv kind of gal, creating out of whatever I have around. Sometimes I'm happy with the result and sometimes I'm not, but it's worked for me so far. Hope your day is filled with good things.

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

Impeccable Timing!

 Yesterday we went over to our small local grocery store to pick up a few things in case the ice cometh and we found ourselves unable to safely walk on icy sidewalks. It's a very small store with a limited selection of items, but they're convenient for basics and they are one of only two stores (the other being Aldi, sometimes) where we can buy what are called jumbo oats here. These are like old-fashioned rolled oats in the US. What they call porridge oats are like what we knew as quick-cooking oats before we moved here. These range from sort of medium flakes to dust and we prefer the jumbo oats for porridge. Also, I make muffins with them (I think they'd be called buns here) and for that, the regular porridge oats do not work well. Since we'd started our last bag of jumbo oats and I wanted to make muffins with some of the fresh cranberries I got from veg man on Thursday, I put the jumbo oats on my list. We were bummed when we got to the shelf and saw only empty space. 

This morning I realized that since the muffins use 2 cups of oats, and we only had the one already-opened bag, I'd better not make them. We decided to keep an eye on the sidewalk and maybe pop over to see if they'd restocked. By afternoon the sidewalk looked dry and people were walking and running normally. We both got into our books, though, so spent time drinking tea and reading. Just after 4, it was starting to get dark and I suggested we might want to go, since tomorrow will be around freezing with sleet/freezing rain/possible snow--or so they say. Off we went. Happy days! There were many bags of jumbo oats. As we got to the till and started chatting with Breda, the nice lady who works there, I said, 'You're restocked!' She laughed and said, 'I restocked this literally 5 minutes ago. The van is still out back. This is the time every week--Tuesday at 4.' So now we know. Had we gone any earlier, we would have found empty space again, so clearly it was best to sit and read for a while 😄😉😏 Too late to make the muffins today, since the oats need to soak for a while, but tomorrow is another day. Orange cranberry muffins with a hot beverage and books on a beautifully cold day? Sounds good to me!

Updated to add the link to the muffin recipe, which is here  To the recipe as written, you can add a teaspoon of vanilla or almond extract if you want, along with the sugar and egg.

Saturday, November 16, 2024

Maybe Forget the Boiling Water

 It's been unseasonably warm here for weeks. For most of the past week, it's been very still--no wind at all. There's been a lot of fog, so the air felt heavy, damp, stuffy, and not at all autumnal. This meant several nights of not sleeping well, so as the week went on, I was feeling more tired and sluggish, both mentally and physically. Last night, it all caught up to me and after supper I was feeling like I just couldn't do anything. I couldn't fall asleep, either. I really don't like it when those two things combine. So I got myself into my bed early and sat there in the dark listening to podcasts, booktube, and part of an audiobook. By the time I was listening to the latter, it was around midnight and I had situated myself to be ready for sleep. An hour later, I turned off my mp3 player, turned over, and fell asleep, a little earlier than usual, but that's OK. There was a breeze and it was cooler, so I was able to sleep to a time that is reasonable for me. I'm feeling better today. 

I expect things to become even more conducive to sleep as an 'Arctic maritime regime' settles over us and brings wintry weather, although this will not be good for going from place to place. It's supposed to be cold for a week, with various episodes of frozen precipitation. That means ice will coat sidewalks and roads. They will send gritters out on the roads, but no one will do anything about the sidewalks. Those will just get worse each day until it's warm enough to cause melting and evaporation. People here will say that they're not used to the ice and that's why they don't deal with it well, but let's be real. Most winters there are at least a few days where ice is a problem. It's not hard to figure out how to deal with it. I would have thought that businesses and homeowners would want to avoid possible legal liability for any falls on the sidewalks in front of their premises, so, out of curiosity, I looked it up. Turns out that if the ice occurs naturally--as a result of freezing rain, for instance--no one is responsible for any injury resulting from it. However, if the owner does something to melt the ice and it then refreezes, like pouring boiling water onto a sidewalk to melt the ice, then that is not naturally occurring ice and the owner bears responsibility. So they have an incentive to just leave the ice there. This seems kind of weird, as does the boiling water example, which I found on a law firm's website. Then again, they seem to be fond of boiling water as a remedy. The first winter we were in the country, we heard a reminder on the radio that it wasn't a good idea to throw boiling water on your windshield to get any frost or ice off it. We laughed and wondered aloud who would do that, even as we assumed plenty of people do, or they wouldn't have said anything. A short time later, we were looking out the window and saw our neighbor toss some hot water on her windshield. We had another laugh.

In any case, we'll see what Monday is like. Hopefully, we'll be able to do a couple of errands in town before the ice arrives (if it does--plenty of time for the forecast to change). After those are done, I am happily anticipating a cozy stretch of hibernation with plenty of time to read, sip hot beverages, and sleep, sleep, sleep! I rely on this time to catch up on the sleep that is so elusive during the summer months and because of the weird weather, I am 6 weeks behind on that already. It's nice to wake up feeling rested. I look forward to it.

Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Donegal Dash Day

 We did the Donegal dash today. Took the bus to Donegal town to return and pick up library books and do some other errands. If the bus is on time, we have 70 minutes on the ground to do what we need to do.  Today, the bus was late due to numerous roadworks going on, but we had enough time to do most of what we wanted to get done and got back to the bus stop just as our bus home was coming around the Diamond, which is the town square and is actually triangular in shape. 
A few weeks ago, a friend sent me this link to an article and Fresh Air interview the author did about this book:
It was fascinating, particularly because Bill and I did a couple of projects some years ago now involving progressive churches, which is what this book is structured around. I was thrilled to find it at the library and really looking forward to reading it. While I was looking for this book, I discovered a previous book by the same author which also seems excellent. That's on its way, but not here yet.

After the library, it was off to the Animals in Need charity shop. I made a beeline for the books and found a couple.
To be honest, I have no idea whether or not I will like either one of these books. But that's one of the great things about charity shops here in this nation of readers. There are always tons of books. Sometimes there are unexpected gems mixed in among several copies of the same popular novel. But they're cheap, staying out of landfills, and the money goes to a good cause--in this case, to care for critters. If I think I might like a book, I'll grab it and see. If I don't like it, I'll stop reading it, re-donate it, and know that my small bit of cash went to a good cause. I picked up the The Binding because of the author. I hadn't read any of her work until earlier this year, when I read and reviewed  The Silence Factory, which was one of the best novels I've read this year. That wasn't the sort of book I'd usually read, but I was intrigued by the idea of silence and wanted to see how she handled that. After I read and loved that book, I knew I'd be keeping an eye out for more books by Bridget Collins and today was my lucky day.  I've read good things about The Alice Network and although I enjoy historical fiction, this isn't the kind I usually pick up. Who knows? I might love it.

Finally, while I was standing at the bookshelves, Bill walked over to the kitchenware shelf and found a short fairytale on a mug. I glanced over at him and he beckoned me over. 'Look at that mug,' he said. 'It's coming home with me,' I replied. 'I thought it might,' he answered.




Monday, November 11, 2024

Some Beauty

 As this new week begins, it feels like a good day to share some beauty as respite from the ugly. A friend sent me this the other day, knowing that I love celosia. I used to have a small one in a pot, but haven't seen one of this size. I think it looks spectacular against the bare branches and blue sky. It brings me joy. May it do the same for you.


Sunday, November 10, 2024

Um, Maybe I Should Just Move Along Now

 A couple of decades ago, we lived in a neighborhood with many residents that were either immigrants from Mexico or of Mexican descent. There was a school that was maybe a block away from our house. This lone male lived directly across the street from the school and several houses down from us. The location of his dwelling became a concern once I had the experience described below. We never saw the guy except from a distance, because every time he would be outside and someone was walking down the street, he'd scurry back inside his house, which was interesting in itself--at least from the outside. 

There wasn't much of a front yard, but there were a few plants growing there, with a very tall flagpole planted among them. This was always flying the 'don't tread on me' flag. In the windows were 'no trespassing' signs and statues of the Virgin Mary. So in spite of the fact that we never saw or talked to him, we felt we knew something about him and didn't really care to make his acquaintance anyway. 

One day, I was walking home from work. I came around the corner onto our street and saw him washing his car. I had the fleeting thought that he'd be hurrying inside at any moment to avoid having to interact with me. As I got closer, I realized with surprise that he was staying outside, so I prepared to say a polite hello as I walked by. I adjusted my face accordingly. However, my surprise grew when I reached the spot in the sidewalk where he was and he began to speak to me. The conversation was pretty much as weird as I would have expected it to be. He didn't greet me in any way. He didn't say hello. Didn't ask how I was. Wasn't commenting on the weather. No. He opened his mouth to speak and out tumbled, 'You know what is the best thing about this country?' 'OK,' I thought, 'This is going to be interesting.' I replied, 'No, what is the best thing about this country?' His answer wasn't funny, but it was so ridiculous that I burst out laughing. 'The best thing about this country is that we can all own guns.' I don't remember exactly what I said then, but I think it was something about how that's not exactly a good thing. That and my laughter were not what he wanted to hear and he got slightly agitated. He went on and on with the typical argument about defending himself against the government. For those not familiar with US gun culture, this is a typical justification people use for why they need guns. They have the nonsensical idea that somehow they can fight off the US military with their personal arsenals😆 Anyway, I said to Mr Gun Nut that I was quite sure that no matter how many guns he had, the US government had access to bigger guns and more of them. He got more agitated. 

I know, you're probably thinking that I should have just walked away right then. I don't know why I didn't, except that I was tired and the guy was so ridiculous as to be almost amusing in a sick sort of way, so things went on. He asked me if I thought people shouldn't have guns and I replied that they didn't need weapons of war and that there should be some regulations. He talked about shooting people who break into his house. I mentioned that the facts are, most of the shootings that occur are not people defending themselves against intruders, but people shooting family members or friends. He said that that never happened to him and he grew up with guns. I laughed a bit more and said sarcastically, 'Oh, well, if that's YOUR experience then it must be true for everyone.' He was angry now and with a raised voice, he asked, 'So you want immigrants to come here and shoot up kids in school?' I responded with, 'Every school shooting has been perpetrated by one of the home grown white boys you were describing.' As I was saying this, I finally had the wise thought that I should stop the conversation. He was yelling at me, but I just shook my head, kept laughing, and walked away--past my house and down the street. At some point, I looked back and he was gone, so I went home.

Even though that story illustrates some of the absurd things people believe about gun culture, it also highlights the problem of disinformation and flight from fact, which has only gotten worse in the decades since I had this conversation. At the time, there was right wing hate radio and Fox 'News.' By the time this happened, I'd already had years of experience interacting with people in a disinformation bubble and I understood that even then, there were many people inhabiting a fact-free universe. They would hear something on one of these platforms and repeat it, like the gun guy, without even a pause to consider if it made sense. It was a problem even back then that people I knew who lived in the real world didn't want to accept or acknowledge. The disinformation universe has exploded in the years since. Some people in the 'U'S talk about involvement in foreign wars, seemingly not understanding that there's a war being waged against them in their own homes and hands and it's one that they're losing--or maybe have already lost. Early evidence seems to indicate that the election results Tuesday were what they were in large part because people believed things that are not true.  There are many dividing lines in politics and people get divided into categories by level of education, class, race, gender, etc. Now it appears that there has to be a category of those living in the real world and those living elsewhere. This explains a great deal. For example, while the winning campaign expressly said that they planned to create hardship for people, those who said they don't like the economy now voted for that campaign. A significant number of people across the country voted for contradictory things--for abortion rights and for the candidates who want to remove them; in favor of strengthening unions and for the candidate who will weaken them among the examples. It didn't take long for people to learn that they voted for things that will harm them. I expect that will continue. 

But this isn't just a 'U'S problem. The disinformation is everywhere. We see the impact of it here as well. I'm confident that leaders and others in countries around the world are analyzing the results of the disinformation warfare being waged by Russia and others as well as by those within each country. Some will try to use it for their own personal gain, as in the 'U'S, and some will hopefully be able to learn lessons about how to better protect their citizens from a similar fate. People are people everywhere, but people everywhere can learn from the example of  how disinformation can harm or destroy democracy as they witness it happening in real time. I don't know how one combats a problem like this, but I know good people are out there working on it. At some point, reality will remind those that have tried to flee from it that there is no escape. The real world still exists and it will have the final say.

Saturday, November 9, 2024

Just in Case

 We arrived here well before the orange toddler rode down his tacky escalator and started spewing filth. We didn't want to live in an urban area, so ended up in a small town. People would often ask us, 'Why did you move here?' I'd usually say something positive about Ireland and add that since things were going to become pretty ugly in the US, we decided that it was time. A few people sort of beamed proudly and said that it was nice to see things moving in the other direction for once. They meant that instead of Irish people leaving, people were leaving other places to come here. Others smiled and asked if we liked it here. fast forward a few years to 2016 and it didn't take me long to realize that the question was no longer being asked. It hasn't been asked since. No one has wondered why. We have been asked where we're from and I always wanted to lie and say Canada, but I didn't. I told the truth. And then I watched the sympathetic expression that always comes over their faces and heard the reply, 'I'm sorry. But you're European now, so it's OK.' I still find this fascinating. No one has ever said, 'You're Irish now.' To them, I can be European, but not Irish. To be clear, I am not either one. I don't feel Irish and I never will. I am someone who lives in Ireland. I don't feel European and I never will. I am someone who lives in Europe. I don't feel like an 'American,' (and never have) although technically and bureaucratically I am. 

It's a weird thing they've got going on here. While nice people were excluding us from 'Irishness,'--and again, I take no offense at this, I just find it interesting--the reason we're here is because Bill was able to become an Irish citizen by descent before we'd ever stepped foot in the country. I offer this information just in case it's useful to anyone.

Years ago,  an acquaintance told Bill that if someone has a parent or grandparent who was born in Ireland, they could apply for citizenship by descent. Bill's grandparents were born here, so he looked into it and discovered that this was something we could do. We began the process. He got the necessary information and paperwork from the nearest Irish embassy. There was a bit of confusion at the beginning because of the way something was worded, so we were a little unsure about his late father's situation. The parent had to be a citizen as well as the grandparent, but his father was born in the US. Bill contacted the embassy for clarification and was told that his dad was automatically a citizen because his dad's parents were citizens. From there it was quite straightforward. He gathered all of the necessary certificates--birth, death, marriage--from the proper authorities in the US. Then it was time to get one of the birth certs for a grandparent. We got the request form from Ireland and discovered that we had to pick a year. They would search that year, the one previous, and the year after. Then we had to guess, because it was unclear exactly what year they were born and his grandmother had apparently fibbed on her marriage certificate because she was older than her groom. In any case, we filled out a form for each grandparent, sent it off, and hoped. They couldn't find anything for his grandfather, but we got grandma's birth certificate and that was all we needed--other than a check, of course. We sent everything off and began our wait. We were told to expect a wait of 18-24 months. One day, about 8 or 9 months later, there was a knock at the door. I found the FedEx guy standing on the porch needing a signature. I was puzzled--I wasn't expecting anything and Bill wasn't home, so I couldn't ask him. I glanced down at the envelope and saw it was from the Irish Consulate. I went inside, opened the envelope and pulled out a letter that began, 'Congratulations, you are an Irish citizen' and going on to explain that Bill's details would be entered into the book of foreign births. It all seemed a bit strange. I was standing there, alone in the quiet house, thinking, 'Shouldn't there be confetti and noisemakers or something?' 😏😆 I called Bill to give him the good news. 

Getting the Irish passport was a different process, much like getting a US passport, but with specific Irish requirements as to photo size, etc. We did that later. We didn't come here immediately after that, but when we knew the time was right, all of that was already taken care of, so we were able to move pretty quickly. We'd never been to Ireland before, but we'd gotten rid of almost all of our possessions and arrived with a few suitcases and backpacks. 

For those without Irish citizenship, US passport holders can come to Ireland and get a 90-day tourist visa at the airport upon arrival. 

Friday, November 8, 2024

Classic Swedish Stories

 A Book for Christmas
by Selma Lagerlöf (translated by Sarah Death, Peter Graves, and Linda Schenk)
Published by Penguin Press UK – Allen Lane, Particular, Pelican, Penguin Classics | Penguin Classics
ISBN 9780241715062

This is a collection of stories, originally published between 1904 and 1933, written by a well-known Swedish author. It's the first time these stories have been translated into English. Having grown up in the US, I was familiar with certain kinds of Christmas stories. As I got older, I became interested in the seasonal stories of other cultures, but hadn't read any from Sweden, so I didn't hesitate when I saw this book. It did not disappoint! I particularly enjoyed the first story, which was based on a memory from when the author was 10. Her excitement about the fact that on Christmas Eve she would be able to burn the candle and read as long as she wanted was so charming and relatable. I think this story explains the book title. Not all of the stories are set at Christmastime, but it does say a book FOR Christmas, not a book of Christmas. I admit that I started the book expecting it to be full of Swedish Christmas stories, but after reading the first story, I interpreted the title differently so my expectations changed. In spite of the fact that not all the stories involved Christmas, I quite enjoyed this book. I liked reading about what Christmas was like in Sweden over a century ago. The folktale style stories were interesting, if sometimes somewhat disturbing, as folktales often are. In short, the book gave me a window into a time and place I had no knowledge of before and I really like that. I'm very glad I had an opportunity to read this book.

I thank NetGalley and the publisher for a digital review copy of this book.


Thursday, November 7, 2024

A New Chapter...

 begins soon.
On a purely objective level, it's fascinating to watch the self-destruction of a democratic superpower. On the other hand, my heart breaks for the suffering that is already the result. For many, the unavoidable knowledge that, in spite of the regular exhortations to the contrary, this is who 'we' are, is painful. Just a smidge over half of the voting public looked at a fascist, incoherent, mentally ill, cognitively declining, cruel, vindictive, easily manipulated, ignorant, damaged useful idiot/toddler and said, 'Yup, that's my guy.' Then they chose some more MAGA fascists for Congress to round things off. Once the new Senate is sworn in, I'm sure there will be no time wasted in completing the transformation of the federal judiciary into another MAGA-fascist-christian nationalist branch of the government. And just like that, the idea of separation of powers is gone. The people appointed will be young. This damage will last for decades. I will not be around to see the end of it. It's interesting to me to consider that my father was born to Nazi parents during the Nazi regime in Germany. I will die a citizen of a country with a fascist government--the country he arrived in as a teenager after the Nazis were defeated. The sad circle will be complete.

For those of you who did not choose this path, I know your pain is real, it is justified, it is terrifying, and it is so, so hard. Anger, fear, grief, and sadness are appropriate emotions. It's important to care for yourself and your loved ones. For anyone who wants to learn more about what's coming, I can highly recommend Ruth Ben Ghiat's book, Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present, as well as her Substack, Lucid. Of course, the authoritarian regime that's coming in the US will look different than those in places like Italy, Germany, Russia--these things always have to be culturally appropriate or they won't work--but Ben-Ghiat does an excellent job of explaining what's happening and putting things in context. For myself, being informed about what is going on and why helps me navigate.

For some of the people who voted for MAGA fascism, the resulting pain and suffering is exactly what they wanted because the cruelty always was, and will remain, the point. This isn't the majority of them, though. For the rest, the pain will come--and probably fairly soon. To those people, remember, you chose this.

You've been promised--clearly and unambiguously--by the MAGA fascist party themselves, that things will be nasty and economic hardship is to be expected. When that hardship arrives and you don't like it, remember, you chose this.

When prices go up due to tariffs and other bad economic policies and you don't like it, remember, you chose this.

When you watch a woman or girl you love suffer and die, remember, you chose this.

When your health care options are few and your insurance is more inadequate than it is now, remember, you chose this.

When workers businesses rely on to do the work no one else would do, some of whom may be your friends, are rounded up and taken away, remember, you chose this.

When civil and human rights, including yours, are removed one by one, remember, you chose this.

When health care policy is dictated by a lunatic conspiracy theorist with a worm-eaten brain and public and individual health suffers as a result, remember, you chose this.

When vaccines are no longer available and disease spreads, remember, you chose this.

When the air you breath and the water you drink becomes more toxic as corporations are invited to destroy the natural environment in your neighborhood and beyond, remember, you chose this.

When you're forced to live under laws dictated by the religious beliefs of a small minority of extreme christian nationalists, and you don't like them, remember, you chose this.

When you want to read a book but you can't because it has been banned, remember, you chose this.

When everyone in the US is less safe because the sane people from other governments don't dare to share intelligence information with the administration of an unstable, incoherent puppet in DC, remember, you chose this.

When the failing, cognitively impaired POTUS is completely incapacitated, which by the looks of things won't be long now, and you're stuck with the VP-elect, remember, you chose this.

When the constitution is a hollow shell that no longer has any real meaning, remember, you chose this.

As the 'experiment' in US democracy comes to an end, remember, you chose this.

In the words of Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol, 'May you be happy in the life you have chosen.'



Saturday, November 2, 2024

Good Day for a Warm Loaf

 I made some wholemeal jalapeno cheese bread this afternoon. It's been a while, but it was nice to get my hands into some dough and to smell the aroma of baking bread. I had some whey from a recent batch of ricotta I made, so I used that, heated until warm, as the liquid--it works really well for bread. I dumped everything into my food processor with the dough blade, whizzed it up until it was nicely mixed, turned the dough out onto a floured surface, and kneaded for a few minutes.

Then into the slow cooker, which had a piece of parchment paper in it, large enough to use to lift out the bread when it was time to turn the loaf. After a little more than 2 hours on high, I turned it over and let it bake for another hour or so, still on high. Then out it came and the impatient wait for it to cool down enough to slice began. I love the end piece, still hot from the slow cooker, with some butter.
I still have more whey left, so will make another loaf of bread soon. Not sure what kind. Chocolate mocha? Lemon poppy seed? Rye? I guess I'll see what I'm in the mood for at the time. For now, we'll  enjoy this one. 😋😀

I'd never thought about using my slow cooker to bake bread until my bread machine conked out. I'd gotten it 4 or 5 years previously for €5 at a charity shop, so I definitely got my money's worth from it. I didn't really want to get a new one and as it was during the pandemic, we weren't going to any charity shops. The ovens I've had in this country are all crap and other than muffins or flatbreads, I wouldn't try to bake bread in one, because I know the loaves would be burnt on the outside and uncooked on the inside. Besides, they are very energy inefficient. So I was looking for an alternative to bread makers and my oven. The slow cooker works perfectly and I am no longer looking for a bread machine. Even if I saw another one for €5 in a charity shop, I wouldn't buy it. When Bill got me my food processor, the whole process was made even easier and the combination of both appliances works better and is easier than using a bread machine, so in the end, I'm not sorry mine conked out. 

Thursday, October 31, 2024

I Gotta Be Me

 I've been reminded lately about how some things about our personalities and ways of being in the world are evident from a very young age. On this Halloween, I remembered a Halloween experience from many decades ago. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wouldn't have been beyond 5th grade, because I was walking home from elementary school (the school went up to 6th grade, but because I skipped 6th grade, my last year there was 5th grade). I was almost home and looking forward to trick-or-treating, when I was approached by some teenagers or possibly very young adults, who stopped me to ask, 'If you died tonight, are you sure you would go to heaven?' As far as I can recall, this was the first time I'd ever encountered people who adhered to that sort of Christian faith, but I was polite and answered them. I still laugh at my answer, which was, 'Well, no, I can't really be sure about that. How can anyone be sure that--or if--they will go anywhere after they die or know what will happen to them?' I was prepared to have a real conversation with these people, so the expression on their faces puzzled me and their answer seemed to consist of nothing much. They quickly realized that I was a waste of their time, I guess, because I was not delayed for very long and soon arrived home. 

Fast forward a couple decades--still a time when we had landlines and when paid TV was called 'cable.' Since we haven't had paid TV since 1995 and no TV at all for over 15 years, I have no idea what it's called now or how it works. But at that time, the cable company offered a new music streaming service that allowed us to choose different music stations based on genre and scrolled the song and artist on the remote. We had this for a while, but eventually decided not to keep it. A month or two after we ended our subscription, I got a call from someone doing a survey about our experience with the service. I'm afraid that once again, I answered honestly and not within the acceptable script. After we'd been muddling through the guy's questions for a while, I could sense his growing agitation. My answer to the next question did the poor guy in. He asked me how much we'd be willing to pay for the service, which under the circumstances was a stupid question. However, I was polite when I answered, 'Obviously nothing, because we cancelled it.' I could hear his gritted teeth when he replied, 'Please just pick a number, ma'am.' I did and he very quickly thanked me (against his will, I'm sure) and ended the conversation. 

I have never been good at superficial conversation, small talk, or choosing answers from a predetermined list. I mean, I politely do the first two, even if I find it tiring and I always have a running analysis going on in my head at the same time. As for the last one, sometimes, like when taking a test, if I know what the instructor wants the answer to be, I can just check off the right box. Even then, there's a part of my brain going through all the ways in which the answer is not really adequate. I'm not really good at fluff. I tend to get really interested in things and go way deeper than most people are interested in going. As I learn more about whatever the topic is, I find related issues to dive into and on it goes. I've been in conversations where people ask me something and I launch into a detailed answer that they were never interested in hearing. I'm not saying that having a superficial interest in some things is bad, just that I'm not built that way. I'm either very interested or hardly interested at all. I'm also not saying that polite small talk is bad--it's an important aspect of social interaction and I understand the useful purpose it serves. It's simply not my favorite thing. Once we moved here, it didn't take me long to come up with automatic answers to the ubiquitous weather commentary that cannot be avoided, although once in a great while I hear a new description besides, 'Not a bad day, is it?' or 'It's not raining, that's the important thing.' A few weeks ago we were on the bus home after being out in the wind and mizzle when someone got on and commented to another person, 'Tis a perishin' day out there.' He agreed that it was. It made a nice change from the ordinary. 

I sometimes used to wish that I was better able to skim the surface of some things. Eventually I accepted that I'm not like that and I'm not going to change at this late date, barring some sort of brain injury. So now I embrace this part of myself. I gotta be me, although I still know how to put on my polite smile and play the game when that is required.

Happy Halloween, if you celebrate!