When I read Tom Stephenson's last post discussing i.a. approval, I thought: "Oh no - that's what I wanted to write about today!":
"I think that I don't do enough of this - it is far easier to say what you don't like than what you do. It is a myth that it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile."
That was exactly what I was thinking about my new blog. I noticed, looking at my three drafts - done in advance for "a rainy day"- that all three themes were - resentful, though always with a dollop of irony.
Is the short form tempting, or is it seeking approval by my followers, or is it simply easier to moan or grouse about something? The manners, the money, the state of affairs...
I enjoy that in other posts, but this isn't me! Of course I see a lot that doesn't please me, I do not live in a bubble and my name is not Pollyanna, but I try hard to see what is good in our life.
Gladly I was born at a time when there was no abundance - I say gladly, because it was so much easier to be thankful for something you got after waiting for a long time (or you produced it yourself - I like to work with my hands too), and to cherish it thus more and longer.
As in every blogger's life there is sun and rain in mine too - but I choose what I talk about.
And - as every woman knows: "The quickest facelift is a smile" :-)
Monday, December 21, 2015
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Cabbage or Rose?
On Rachel's blog I read about Christmas in her childhood.
The moment she mentioned it, the strange sweet-cold smell of sugar beets that fell down from a lorry and burst into pieces filled my nose. I hadn't thought of it for ages.
Contrary to scientists I believe that one can remember smells - the dark-alluring smell of box in the sun, the mellow smell of warm mashed potatoes with milk and bran to feed sows, or foul water in rain barrels that weren't used permanently - but it is very difficult to describe them (Well, Patrick Süßkind must have succeeded in "Perfume" - but that I never read).
"An idealist is one who, on noticing that roses smell better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup." wrote H.L.Mencken
PS: Strange: the date announcing my post is wrong (it is Sunday) - but then: Time... does it matter? Dissolves like smells...
The moment she mentioned it, the strange sweet-cold smell of sugar beets that fell down from a lorry and burst into pieces filled my nose. I hadn't thought of it for ages.
Contrary to scientists I believe that one can remember smells - the dark-alluring smell of box in the sun, the mellow smell of warm mashed potatoes with milk and bran to feed sows, or foul water in rain barrels that weren't used permanently - but it is very difficult to describe them (Well, Patrick Süßkind must have succeeded in "Perfume" - but that I never read).
"An idealist is one who, on noticing that roses smell better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup." wrote H.L.Mencken
PS: Strange: the date announcing my post is wrong (it is Sunday) - but then: Time... does it matter? Dissolves like smells...
Saturday, December 19, 2015
Hope you read Emily Post?
In a comment on Rachel's blog I saw the discussion about "eating in the street".
Angrily I stare at a small dark spot on my beautiful cherry-red coat ("With it you brighten up a grey winter day, love", people tell me). Yes: Someone in the underground slurped her silly coffee-to-go - swoosh - -- sprinkle - she didn't even notice.
Of course it is forbidden to drink/eat on public transport - but: WHO cares?
I remember Fräulein Dr. M., our elegant English teacher, who told us that it is indecent for a girl to lick on an icecream-cone in public - we stared at her, and (even more sensational than the archaic and long-forgotten word "indecent") : we did not understand why!
"Blessed are the poor in -- err -- wordly knowledge-- when they are only eleven years old... "
Angrily I stare at a small dark spot on my beautiful cherry-red coat ("With it you brighten up a grey winter day, love", people tell me). Yes: Someone in the underground slurped her silly coffee-to-go - swoosh - -- sprinkle - she didn't even notice.
Of course it is forbidden to drink/eat on public transport - but: WHO cares?
I remember Fräulein Dr. M., our elegant English teacher, who told us that it is indecent for a girl to lick on an icecream-cone in public - we stared at her, and (even more sensational than the archaic and long-forgotten word "indecent") : we did not understand why!
"Blessed are the poor in -- err -- wordly knowledge-- when they are only eleven years old... "
Friday, December 18, 2015
Espresso-language-learning
This morning I started to optimise my learning of Italian. Have bought a book "Fluent Forever" (I always fall for such titles) by Gabriel Wyner - and then I tried for more than an hour to install a recommended flashcard database - "Espresso". So annoyed: it shows the translation of the Italian sentence in - Croatian? Czech? Romanian? - and I couldn't find out how to change the translation to German. Didn't feel fit to learn two languages at once, though Wyner's second (sound) advice is "Don't translate".
Drank a real espresso instead.
Drank a real espresso instead.
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