Haunting Verse From Kipling
THE NAULAHKA
Now it is not good for the Christian’s health to hustle the Aryan brown,
For the Christian riles, and the Aryan smiles and he weareth the Christian down;
And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of the late deceased,
And the epitaph drear: “A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.”
Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936).
Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.
Taking a Break: Reposting Non-Partisan Election Joke
A good friend sent this non-partisan joke just in time for election day:
While walking down the street one day a US senator is tragically hit by
A truck and dies.
His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
‘Welcome to heaven,’ says St. Peter. ‘Before you settle in, it seems
There is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts,
You see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.’
‘No problem, just let me in,’ says the man.
‘Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do Is
have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you Can choose
where to spend eternity.’
‘Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,’ says the
Senator.
‘I’m sorry, but we have our rules.’
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes Down,
down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself In the middle
of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse And standing in
front of it are all his friends and other politicians Who had worked
with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him,
Shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while
Getting rich at the expense of the people.
They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar And
champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who Has a
good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a Good time
that before he realizes it, it is time to go.
Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator
Rises…
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St.
Peter
Is waiting for him.
‘Now it’s time to visit heaven.’
So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls
Moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a
Good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St.
Peter returns.
‘Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now
Choose your eternity.’
The senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: ‘Well, I would Never
have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I
would be better off in hell.’
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, Down
to hell.
Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a Barren
land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and
Putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder.
‘I don’t understand,’ stammers the senator. ‘Yesterday I was here And
there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and Caviar,
drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a
wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable.
What happened?’
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, ‘Yesterday we were
campaigning.. .
Today you voted.’
Oddly Satisfying Conversation
We had a lovely weekend, a confirmation of a much-loved young friend, and gathering afterwards in her home with other close friends.
On our way home, AdventureMan was laughing so hard he almost couldn’t drive. He had asked me about the serious conversation I had been having with the host.
“We were talking about loading the dishwasher,” I told him, not thinking to incite this hilarity.
When you run into someone who shares your interests, it can lead to a great conversation. I love doing dishes. I find it meditative. I like gathering them and rinsing them and stacking them. The host agreed with me that my loading his dishwasher would not be a good thing.
People who LIKE loading dishwashers have their own ideas about how it needs to be done, it’s like we have inner patterns that must be met. I want to load my dishwasher because I unload the dishwasher, and if I load it, I have all the things together that need to be unloaded together. I like to unload and put away because I like to know where things are in my kitchen. If I put them away, it is always in the same place.
I think it’s OK to be a little bit obsessive about a few things!
A friend once laughed because all my spices were in alphabedical order. Now, I’ve changed the pattern; I do this now and then when new ways of achieving efficiency come to mind. Now I have herbs and savories together and baking spices together, and it makes sense to me, but to someone else it might not.
But I’ve discovered it is like a secret club, this need to have order. Some people are not wired this way, but those of us who are can discuss pros and cons of different patterns endlessly and enthusiastically.
And AdventureMan just laughs.
Small Groups and the Seven Deadly Sins
One of the great calming forces in my life is meeting with my small groups. One is a monthly book club; we are not all of the same mind; we bring different perceptions, and it is good for us. New doors open, we see things differently. Yesterday, I was confronted by a woman who reminded me that when she was reviewing a book she loved, and wondered why it was not popular, there was a silence. And then I said “Well, it was poorly written.” I expected a rebuke, but she said that having given it some thought, now she agrees. Whew!
(I hate confrontation. And I also have a big problem with lying. I believe lying hurts the person receiving the lie, and it hurts the liar. I think lies are seeds that grow wildly, creating a thicket of evil. Unintended consequences.)
My other small group doesn’t meet all the time, just for studies two or three times a year. Small group are where real connections are made, so the church makes an effort to help us connect with one another. This small group has met at the same time with the same leader for several years. It has several people who have been with this group for a long time. New people come once or twice and are never seen again, and some come and settle in for the long haul. We are diverse, from all segments of the church, and we have a wonderful gift in common. As we study and apply scripture, we laugh at ourselves. On rare occasions, we cry with one another. It is a band of buddies, and our buddies keep us safe in life.
Last night we were working on Envy. It was fascinating, and I learned something new. There is a technical difference between jealousy and envy. Jealousy is having something/someone and being afraid of losing what you have. Envy is wanting something – or something better than – someone else has, or something you lack. That’s food for thought for the rest of the week.
As a group, we thought the illustration for Envy was fabulous. One member asked to look at all the eyes, all green, and notice how cold envy is. Another said that Envy is the only deadly sin that gives no pleasure. We only have six weeks; it makes me laugh to know that the deadly sin of Lust is optional.
During an epoch when I find events stirring in me emotional turbulence, I leave these groups feeling at peace, and I sleep well at night. The world goes on. We find our people. They help us shoulder our burdens and march alongside us. Thanks be to God.
Born Every Minute
One of my neighbors on NextDoor had seen these advertised around, and it was surprisingly inexpensive. He ordered, and, very chagrined, posted when it arrived, that it is just a box with a fan in the back and a tray for water. It is, indeed, a “cooler,” not an air conditioner, and has minimal effect.
I laughed, but occasionally I have also bought things which sounded too good to be true, and truly were – not what they were hyped up to be. Glad I’m not the only one.
Dirty Pool
So no, I don’t always play fair. The really cool thing about being married for a long time is that your partner and you learn tolerance and forgiveness, and in a long marriage, you really need both. A lot of both.
I’ve had a yearning for a new couch. I’m not a material girl; the last couch I bought was in 1996, and it is still in the family, living a new life as a couch and spare queen-size guest bed in our son’s house. Soon they will also inherit the really good bunk beds I inherited from my youngest sister (also in 1996) and they still have the original mattresses, mattresses with cowboys on them! They will go to keep my old couch company.
I take my time. I’ve been looking at couches for about 18 months now. I took AdventureMan with me on a tour of furniture shops, from top to bottom, and we were in total agreement, nothing was right for us.
And then I found it.
It’s small enough for our smaller house. It’s leather, in a honey camel kind of color that I love to sit in when we are staying at places like El Tovar, or Old Faithful Inn, or Timberline Lodge. It’s a lodge kind of couch, comfy. You and your friend can sit on it and drink coffee and share your hearts and solve the problems of the world, or just cry at the occasional tragedies we all sometimes face.
And look at the legs! I need furniture that is off the ground to keep the appearance in my smaller house from being too cluttered. I like light. I love these beautiful hand-carved legs!
So I go into AdventureMan’s office with my choice, and for a few seconds (it feels a lot longer than it really was) he is silent. And then he says “the cats will scratch it.”
Here’s where the dirty pool comes in. I was horrible, I will admit it.
“Who knows how long we will be here to enjoy it?” I said. “I need a couch so you can stretch out when you want to watch something on the big television. It doesn’t have to last forever; we are not going to last forever.”
And then, worst of all I said “And my Mother wants me to have it.”
How bad do I feel?
I feel sort of bad. I was really packing some punches, but pulling the “Mom wants me to have it” punch was probably a low blow. When Mom died, she left some money to be divided among my sisters and me, and some for our children. We’ve been using some of it for travel and some for renovations, but the truth is, it’s all in one of our pots, and I don’t really keep track of it, AdventureMan and I have just combined it with other incomes to share with our family and make our lives comfortable and fun.
He’s been handling a lot of the improvements and renovations. I take care of furnishings.
The truth is, he is very good to me. He is practical, and the other truth is, our cats are cats. They are destructive. I don’t know how to keep them from clawing at a leather sofa, but whether the sofa is leather or fabric, the cats will claw it, and I need a couch in my life.
“Buy the couch,” he says.
I know he will like it once it arrives. I know he will stretch out on it and eventually, he will be glad we have it. I know the cats will scratch at it and we will yell at them and clap our hands, and it will probably look really awful – down the road. It’s not like I am going to live forever. Thank you, AdventureMan 🙂
The Sad And Painful Truth
AdventureMan and I have a lot in common; we share a lot of the same values and we’re in our 49th year of marriage.
And yet . . .
We also have our differences. Because AdventureMan is very commanding, I have had to learn how to gently but firmly set some boundaries.
So today he suggested we hit Shoreline Deli, which was fine with me because I love their Greek salad and I also buy a lot of my spices there. You can buy them in small quantities, and they are more fresh than the ones that stand waiting in your pantry for years.
It’s not a sit-down kind of place; we stand with others who have ordered, waiting for our order to be prepared and taken out. There is always a lot to look at, and often they have something that no one else carries.
As we finish lunch, AdventureMan says “I see you found some of your favorite cookies. I saved room hoping you would share with me.”
I said “Of course, what is mine is yours.”
Very quickly I had a second thought and reframed my response. “Of course, what is mine is yours, up to half.”
At this point, I opened the little box and counted the cookies, a very plain Greek cookie with very little sugar and some cinnamon.
What does AdventureMan say? “I can’t believe you’re counting the cookies!”
He knows why I am counting the cookies. We have stylistic differences. I can buy a large 85% Cocoa chocolate bar and eat one square a day. I don’t need more, and rarely do I really want more. AdventureMan, on the other hand, has unrestrained cravings. There are things I have to hide – mixed nuts, Japanese rice crackers, cookies, cakes, and M&M’s. If I don’t set a limit, or hide them, they are free game.
I am not saying this is wrong. It is simply a stylistic difference. At the same time, if I want something special, the only way I can be sure there will be some left for me when I need it is to hide it.
I am not an ogre. I also bought beautiful mini chocolate macaroon cookies Two years ago at this time we were in the Bordeaux region of France and bought a package of traditional macaroon cookies with dark chocolate bottoms and each had one at the end of each day, and they lasted right up to our very last night before we flew back home. They were so rich and moist that one was more than enough.
AdventureMan was delighted to see the chocolate-bottomed macaroons. We each had one. I have no idea how many there are. I am not counting; AdventureMan is free to nibble as he needs. I just needed one. Well, maybe two, they are tiny, very tiny.
Recent Comments
intlxpatr on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… John on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… intlxpatr on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… John Smith on British Soldier Kidnapped, Esc… tigerbutterya0c5ff1d… on “Who Would Do Such a… Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 