A week on Sunday (no. 33)

Grace

Recently, listening to the latest season of Revisionist History (The Alabama Murders) Malcolm Gladwell describes a particular group of Protestants (Church of Christ) as being especially strict. One of the words he uses, in making his point, is “grace”. He uses it in contrast to shame, or rather, he says that when you feel a lot of shame, it can sometimes be because there is a lack of grace:

When you’re in a context of overwhelming shame, it can do terrifying things to the psyche.

In the absence of any sort of constructive grace, and I don’t mean by that, some flabby sense of, oh, everything’s-ok-grace, but some sort of constructive sense of grace, […] it can quickly lead you to all sorts of madness. […]

What [Lee C. Camp] was saying, and what many others in the Church of Christ came to believe, was that their church, particularly their church in that era, 40, 50 years ago, did not understand grace.

[…] Because in the absence of grace, there is no relief from transgression.

But grace is greater than just “relief from transgression”. It reminded me of the end of an episode of This is Actually Happening… A doctor named Tony Dajer talked about a patient he helped on the day of the Twin Tower attack. The patient had been transferred to another hospital and Dajer decided to visit him, to “have a face, to know of somebody that we had taken care of that I could get to know a little more.” The patient had been rendered paraplegic, and Dajer feared that the patient’s wife would be distraught… Instead,

the wife shows up, and it was probably the most unexpected moment of grace in my whole life. She was just, “look, you saved him. Whatever time I had with him, without you, he wouldn’t even be here” and just left us speechless. She was radiant with gratitude and love and “oh, my God, what you guys must have gone through on 9-11,” and “thank you for saving my husband.”

The husband died a few months later, but the doctor and that woman kept in touch. Dajer says:

she visits every now and then, and it’s a touchstone that keeps me connected and forgiven and understanding of what happened. […] What she showed me was that even in the depths of her grief, that somehow her love for him spilled over to us was almost a miracle. That sense of her taking care of us when it’s supposed to be completely the other way around was what was so powerful.

I have never seen another human being so represent what grace means. It’s a human standard that because she can do it, means it can be done, and it is possible to be that way.

The definition of grace in the OED starts with its theological origin. It is “benevolence […], bestowed freely and without regard to merit”. And benevolence is the “disposition to do good, […] to promote the happiness of others”. Grace can also be the expression of gratitude (Thanksgiving is “action de grâce” in French, a literal “giving grace”!). Considering all this, grace feels like an especially potent word and something to aspire to. Grace heals… not just the person who receives it, but the person who chooses to bestow it.

Whereas that doctor found that it stopped him in his tracks, an experience which he gifts listeners of the podcast with the words to translate the intensity of the feeling, I think we aren’t granted such profundity every day… Most days, I suspect, grace flows, if it is unobstructed, like a little stream. I think it can look as mundane as a man taking care of his father with Alzheimer’s, a strength hidden in the willingness of his care for his family despite the merit of his freedom having been unfairly judged. That’s what came to mind listening to In the Dark’s season 2 update, here.

(Grace, previously mentioned.)  

Keeping a diary

I liked what Peter Elbow writes about keeping a diary in his book Writing Without Teachers:

One of the functions of a diary is to create the interaction between you and symbols on paper. If you have strong feelings and then write them down freely, it gives you on the one hand some distance and control, but on the other hand it often makes you feel those feelings more. For you can often allow yourself to feel something more if you are not so helpless and lost in the middle of it. So the writing helps you feel the feeling and then go on to feel the next feelings. Not be stuck. (p. 56)

(I also like how the colour of my sticky notes perfectly matches the pages in this book!)

Food (the subject)

Sometimes, things connect in a delightful way… First, there’s the mild curiosity over the old recipes you can come across while browsing newspaper archives. You kind of wonder, half in passing, if that dish, whose black and white picture is rendered in ink blots, would actually taste good today. 

This recipe, featured in July 1956, is a frozen dessert. It has a crust made of pulverized sugary cereal and butter. The filling is milk, cream, almond extract and instant pudding whipped together for a minute and then set to freeze for 4 hours. It is called a Frozen Royal Pie. Who knows? Maybe it’s delicious! (This is also the newspaper edition that features Christian’s grandpa’s death on page 4.)

Then second, by chance, a podcast asks the same question, going further into the past, and answering with a bit more academic rigour. (At one point in the podcast, the guest, Marieke Hendricksen, muses about one of their experiments, “it also brought home to me that because people ate so many fermented foods, they must have had a higher histamine tolerance than we had.”)

But wait! There’s a third link! There’s this story of Rosie Grant (This is Taste podcast) who collected recipes carved into gravestones and lovingly gathered them into a cookbook titled To Die For: A Cookbook of Gravestone Recipes. She’s been documenting her discoveries (Instagram: Ghostly Archive) and when asked about any changes of perspective she had since beginning the project, she answered:

Oh my gosh, so much appreciation for our home cooks. […] On the flip side [of professional chefs] there are people who are just like everyday cooks who really love food. 

They use food to show love. They use it to celebrate someone’s birthday or to celebrate a holiday and bring people together. And there’s a real, like a labor side and gift side to it as well. […] 

Every day I just feel like I have so much appreciation for even my own family members who use food to not only nourish me, but give me some of my best childhood memories to connect me with others. 

I like food best when I’m with a loved one or friend and we’re having dinner or we’re cooking. It’s just given me a lot more of a sense of how it connects us together.”

Eating 

Would you like to see this Nutella croissant from Le Croissant, where I was invited for lunch earlier this week? I was one bite in to my half before my (kind, less voracious) lunch partner suggested a picture of our meal. It was too late for the muffuletta sandwich… But the table decorations were cute!

This week, I made Tikka Masala from The Huckle and Goose Cookbook, a recipe filed away for occasions when I’d need to use up garden tomatoes that were all together ripening, ripening, ripening.  

The boys tried one of their uncles’ favourite desserts… a slice of Wafer Pie from Salisbury House (Instagram). It might not win top spot in their heart, but they didn’t detest it either.

And, in the spirit of the season, I picked up this cookie mix from the Bruxelles General Store last week, made it and served the cookies with a cinnamon glaze to the kids gathered at our house for a playdate. 

PostcardS

Fall is advertised for its colour, but pictures from walks this week advertise its texture instead… the silver pearls of a heavy dew, the ragged cutout shape of maple leaves on the ground, and the fuzzy softness of a plant going to seed…

Happy Sunday! Happy Thanksgiving!

A week on Sunday (no. 31)

I don’t have much to list this week, except the the simple things gathered on the daily morning walks… Like milkweed seeds, once dried after a rain, that show such silky softness:

Or, a landscape transformed by fog…

Suddenly, in the moistened air, strands of spider webs are revealed everywhere…

Now it’s the wild field that is aflame, and the river behind it has disappeared:

The sun’s rays become a gentle softness…

The next day, walking the same path, you can gaze up, startled by the contrast of yellow and blue, and find the sky cleaved in two, and seagulls so high that in the camera viewfinder you can mistake the glints of sunlight on their wings for leaves being blown off the trees…

These are the little things that, being so anodyne, are what soothe the soul.

Happy Sunday!

A week on Sunday (no. 9)

Thoughts

News feels like a constant rain, a subject as pervasive as weather. Keeping up on news is a way of keeping conversational. But not here... Here, I never feel like talking about the news. I feel like, if I talked about news, I'd be a big phony, like the phonies Holden Caulfield calls out all throughout Catcher in the Rye. And Catcher in the Rye is what Marie-Hélène and I are reading right now... Then, this week, Tyler Cowen wrote why he didn't feel like writing about "various topics" on Marginal Revolution, and I suddenly felt the same way... words to a feeling, someone else expressed better than you. At number 1: "1. I feel that writing about the topic will make me stupider." And stupid is a good word... it means "Emotionally, morally, or spiritually dull, numb, or indifferent; lacking in natural feeling, moral sense, or spiritual awareness." 

Fandom

I follow any link that leads to more Robert Caro, and Kottke served up one to another recent interview, by Chris Heath, with more writing tips! Like routines: "When not beset by distractions, Caro keeps to the same work process he has had for decades. He rises early, puts on a jacket and tie, and walks to his nearby office, picking up a croissant and coffee on the way." And admiration for Ernest Hemingway, from whom he learned, “Every day, you write first before you do anything else. That was a rule. And I followed that.” And a quote from the eulogy he wrote when Hemingway died:

The Ernest Hemingway who was a legend in his own lifetime was the bearded, barrel-chested central figure in a boisterous tapestry of gin and bananas and giant marlins. But the Ernest Hemingway who created the work that will be remembered in centuries to come was the man who, for 40 years, dragged himself out of bed at 5 a.m. to begin long mornings of loneliness before unyielding pads of yellow paper.

Drawing

I never really understood Lynda Barry's excitement over drawing with young children until this week when a friend's 5-year-old showed me his sketchbook, and critiqued mine. He added missing wings to a bird I'd doodled, and took inspiration from a grid I'd drawn. I got to admire his spontaneity, his wonderful unself-consciousness. We inspired each other, we doodled subjects we could think of on the spot. Now I get it, when she said in her typewriter interview with Austin Kleon: "This summer I spent 3 days a week drawing with [4 year olds]. [...] They changed me in a deep way in 3 months. A feeling of aliveness and realness is what they gave me all the time."

Cooking

Ali Slagle's Mighty Meatballs! Served on top a soft heap of mashed potatoes, with a few bright peas on the side for colour and slices of baguette. Comfort food to the max!

Postcards

This week begins the long slow spring melt, when warm days turned back snow to slush, then cold days return and make the slush into ice. The colour palette is limited... but the Red River looks blue at this time of year, and that is when it is prettiest.

Also... a view of the trees planted last year in Henteleff, awaiting the warmth to grow a little more...

Friday Five

Welcome to my little spot on the web, where, like a bird on a blade of bluestem I cheerily chirp in comfortable invisibility. Ha! This week brings more thoughts on writing, the foundational joy of these weekly dispatches, and… some fall colour! Cheers!

1 Writing

I like listening to writers talk about writing because I crave all their voices and experience in the silence of muddling along. For example, I nod along with Alexandra Shulman when she says “I’m somebody who never knows what I’m going to write ever until I start writing it. […] I write it down and then once I’ve written down wherever I get, then I go back and try and turn it into something that’s a bit more ordered.” It makes me think of Joan Didion’s expression: “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.” But do you see how Shulman’s statement is a little more raw, a little less literary? In the yellow glow of my black desk lamp, I more often feel like Shulman, a little humbled by my inability to draw up a plan and follow it. It’s in the glare of sunlight through a café window, joking with a friend over lunch that I can venture to be Joan Didion-like, just “writing to think…”

Or, for another example, I like how Jon Ronson said he needs “months to write”, that being a columnist wasn’t something he liked because his brain just didn’t work that way… “I’m very slow.” And while this might seem like an unflattering quote, such confessions are deeply reassuring for people whose creativity has a matching way of working itself out.

Slow percolation and spontaneity … I wonder if it’s related in a way to Carson Ellis’s own observation on the subject of narrative storytelling, when she tells Debbie Millman that she wishes she “felt more comfortable with it and better at it” but that she freezes when “faced with the challenge of making up a story, even if it could be about anything. Like you’re telling a story to a three-year-old with no expectations, the bar is very low, and I still feel kind of frozen by it.” I too get the same feeling.

Perhaps the fun of listening to this kind of “shop talk” is the excitement of a kind of pattern recognition, whereby I find in the professionals things I’ve begun to notice in myself and it’s a boost to my confidence. 

2 Breath

The ideas in this book have recently taken over our thoughts and modified some of our habits… I originally heard about the book on the podcast “People I Mostly Admire”. James Nestor’s writing voice is nice to read and he has a kind tone. Steve Levitt remarked on this in his podcast, saying “you came to book writing somewhat late” and then noting the success of his books. Nestor answers that for him, writing has been an outlet, “what I would do to feed my soul at nighttime and on weekends.” I find it inspiring that this kind of attitude toward writing imbues a reader’s experience of the book itself.

3 Eating

I made doughnuts from scratch for the friends and family festivities at our house Halloween night. It was a little chaotic… Christian had to serve supper on limited counter space while answering the door and being cheerful while the dog howled so I could concentrate entirely on managing dough and hot oil. But! They were a SUCCESS! I followed Sohla El-Waylly’s recipe in Start Here to the letter, and the outcome was plush and crisp and perfectly sweet. I learned about proofing dough - comparing the right amount of proofing to a handprint on memory foam was effective - and used coconut oil for frying as she recommended. Having our whole house smell like it was doused in coconut-scented sunscreen seems like an extra perk of the recipe. Wow.

4 Research

I’m doing this little side-project for fun and it involves these directories that get bigger and bigger along with Winnipeg’s population growth. They’re called Henderson Directories and they list an individual’s name, their occupation, place of employment and address. They also list house owners by street. These tactile sources of data amaze me. They’re also a poor subject of conversation, of the “did you know” type. 

Research makes me think of Tyler Virgen’s post “The Mystery of the Bloomfield Bridge”. I really like this blog post. It begins small, leads to a little goose-chase and lots of sleuthing, contains self-doubt, has moments of humorous refocusing, plunges into dusty archives, contains newspaper clippings and delivers a satisfying ending. If I were a professor, I’d dedicate a class to this blog post, just for the illustration of research it provides.

5 The view

It’s so colourful this time of year…

I feel like milkweed makes a flamboyant show in the fall compared to the demure dusty-rose of its summertime flower clusters.

In case you were doubting the above statement…

The river recedes from the shore, going so low as to reveal new islands and the perfect profile of a duck.

Today, a row of willow looked like this, still leafy:

Happy Friday!

Friday Five

Hello, hello! Welcome to another edition of things on my mind and before my eyes.

1 Thinking

Conversations with Tyler recently interviewed Alan Taylor (episode 217). I’m especially attentive with the guest is a historian, and there’s a part of the interview that focused specifically on “the (modern) practice of history”. In a response to Tyler’s question about coming out of a “good but not very, very top school” Alan discussed the academic field as he sees it today, saying:

The number of job openings for historians has shrunk dramatically. There are lots of complicated reasons for why that’s happened, but the general answer is that there’s a much smaller public investment in higher education, particularly in the liberal arts, and particularly in nonquantitative arts of the liberal arts.

Now that could be depressing to hear, but instead, I feel a little thrill… History’s place in education, at all levels is something I want to learn more about. I suspect that somehow, there’s been a change in society and the way history is viewed and I find that intriguing.

A link from the newsletter Dense Discovery (no. 299) lead me to read this substack article by Freya India, in which she writes:

My guess is that what we need most in this chaotic world is moral direction. What we need most in a rapidly changing world is rootedness. Could just be me but when I listen to the misery and confusion of my generation beneath it I hear a heartbreaking need—a need to be bound to others, to a community, to a moral code, to something more.

Don’t history and rootedness rhyme? If not literally, figuratively?

2 Eating

Our garden has started producing string beans just this week, and so the menu plan reflects their abundance with Salade niçoise, and this other recipe from Market Math, which, (shh!) is just barely a recipe, in fact, I could tell it to you here… It’s browned ground pork (about 230g) with a big pile of thinly sliced beans (about 340g) and a clove or two of garlic microplaned and a tablespoon or so of soy sauce sauteed until the beans are tender. Served on rice. Mmm.

3 Reading

I heard about this graphic memoir on Longform (RIP!) and reserved a copy at the library. The kids say it has a scary cover, but it has turned out to be a enjoyable read. I also liked listening to Tessa Hulls talk about how she made the book on the Youtube channel Sequetial Artists Workshop here.

4 Listening

I learned a lot from Andrew Leland’s book The Country of the Blind, which I listened to as an audiobook. (Kevin Brown has a great review here). I particularly like how he writes about choosing to walk around with a gentle half smile, an idea he learned from Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh. I remember after pandemic restrictions eased and you could walk around maskless, I felt annoyed about having to think of arranging my face when it was easier to scowl, the way one could behind a mask. Remembering to half-smile is far more pleasant, even if effortful.

5 the view here

There is nothing like the serenity of a calmly flowing river to jolt you from a mind pulsing with computer-screen glare.

Happy Friday!





Friday Five

Welcome to another end-of-week round up, with a quote, appreciation for food, a book I finished, a competition with Chat GPT, and more pictures from my dog-walks. It’s Saturday, but I refuse to rename the post granting myself a pass for the busy day yesterday…

1.

I love the prairies. In the course of reading for my paper I came across Kenneth Michael Sylvester’s description in The Limits of Rural Capitalism: "My strongest memories are of the scale of the countryside, of fading towns with weathered false-front buildings and of cities that appeared without reason, out of nowhere, like distant harbours in a vast agricultural ocean." (p 3) Sometimes I wish academic writing encouraged more lyricism.

2.

In praise of the traditional meal. I've tended for the past four months or so, to build menus that rely less heavily on meat as a main, or to space them out a bit... Fried rice, wonton soup, creamy pasta with peas and bacon... those sorts of meals. But earlier this week, I breaded pieces of chicken (flour, egg, panko crumbs), shallow fried them, and made a side of perogies (boiled then lightly pan fried), lingonberry sauce (from IKEA!) and boiled edamame and remembered how comforting it is sometimes to come back to a traditional meal. Dress it up a bit, and you have Jamie Oliver's "Super Schnitzel" from his book Jamie's Comfort Food, with breaded veal cutlets and a special "sprinkle" (made of finely chopped shallot, pickle and parsley), potato salad and apple salad. 

3. 

A good book. Thanks to the podcast “People I Mostly Admire,” I learned about the work of historian Brad Gregory. (I wrote about a quote I liked from that podcast episode here). Last week, I finished reading his book The Unintended Reformation. I liked it so much, I wrote a summary of it here. Gregory’s approach with a book on “how the distant past remains influential in the present” [p 14] is unusual, as he points out in the introduction, and perhaps this is another reason why I appreciated the book so much.  

4. 

A competition with AI. I asked Chat GPT to take over this edition of Friday Five with the query “Write me 5 short paragraphs, each with an interesting idea on random subjects.” This was the result:

 

One interesting idea is the concept of "forest bathing," which is a practice that originated in Japan and involves spending time in nature to improve physical and mental well-being. Studies have shown that spending time in nature can lower stress hormones, improve mood, and boost the immune system.

Another interesting idea is the concept of "pre-suasion," which is the art of preparing people to be more receptive to a message before the message is even delivered. This can be done through a variety of techniques, such as using certain words or images to prime the audience's subconscious.

An interesting idea in the field of psychology is "change blindness," which is the phenomenon where people fail to notice significant changes in their visual environment. This can have important implications for fields such as advertising, as people may not even notice changes in a product or brand.

An interesting idea in the field of economics is "behavioral economics," which is the study of how psychology and cognitive biases influence economic decision-making. This field has shown that people do not always make rational decisions when it comes to money, and that understanding these biases can help to improve economic policy.

An interesting idea in the field of technology is the concept of "smart cities," which use technology to improve the efficiency and livability of urban areas. This can include things like smart traffic lights, air quality sensors, and public transportation systems that are connected to the internet. By using technology to improve the functioning of cities, it is believed that smart cities can help to reduce pollution, improve quality of life, and increase economic productivity.

Isn’t it comforting to know this blog hasn’t been taken over by robots? That bit about change blindness is intriguing though… I’ve often tended to feel the opposite. More like Homily in The Borrowers, which my daughter and I are reading right now. In the story, a boy is bringing the family pieces of furniture from a doll’s house and Homily, the mother, is excited about all this new décor:

…Homily was tireless; bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, after a long day’s pushing and pulling, she still would leave nothing until morning. “Let’s just try it,” she would beg, lifting up one end of a large doll’s sideboard, so that Pod [her husband] would have to lift the other; “it won’t take a minute!” But as Pod well knew, in actual fact it would be several hours before, disheveled and aching, they finally dropped into bed. Even then Homily would sometimes hop out “to have one last look.” (p 131).

I so recognize this excitement! Re-organizing a corner, changing a paint colour, or styling things a different way have the opposite effect of change blindness, instead sparking my attention every time I walk by. Cup of Jo once called this a fakeover.

5.

Pictures. Care for some Winnipeg scenery? Last week was warm and cloudy, but this week brought dipping temperatures and fresh snow. It’s a game of “would you rather…” Option 1: warm weather, no sun; option 2 cold weather, bright sun! What do you pick?

Look how the sun makes a difference:


And check out the “Loch Ness tree” in winter… (I’ve taken a picture of it in other seasons here.)

Earlier this week I spotted deer. Enzo, not having picked up their scent, didn’t notice them!

Happy weekend!

Friday Five

1

Podcast I loved this week's episode of This American Life... These are short paragraphs-long stories, Ira Glass says… and yet how powerful the humble paragraph! As a tutor, I often encourage students to look at paragraph-construction tips, because, in academic writing, they can follow a pattern: make a point, have examples to develop the point, conclude the thought and lead to the next point. On This American Life, guest Etgar Keret shared pieces of his mother's character and turned paragraphs about her into art.

2

Music Tom Allen's CBC programme "About Time" featured "Oqiton" by Jeremy Dutcher. The song is based on a wax cylinder recording of a Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik) song, in a language that had (then) long been outlawed. It's beautiful and haunting.

3

Deodorant Megababe has a slew of products and I'm two weeks into daily application of "The Smoothie Deo" post "Space Bar Underarm Soap" lathering, rinsing, drying. I smell good, even at the end of a busy day wearing heat-tech turtlenecks. Natural products make one feel extra lady-like when they work because they exude environmentalist virtue perhaps... Wearing something that smells like a chocolate filling (coconut, lime and bilberry) feels lighter than applying men's extra-strength antiperspirant, even though, to be clear, aluminium is fine and detoxing one's armpits is a dubious exercise. 

4

Food I made Refrigerator Bran Muffins, the idea of this recipe being that the batter can be safely kept in the refrigerator for weeks so that, for weeks, you can treat yourself to freshly-made muffins with little prep. For my mother-in-law, I baked them all at once. The recipe made 44 muffins, and I learned you don't need to fill the empty wells of a muffin tin with water.

5

Winnipeg Scenery This week's weather brought nice temperatures and cloudy-grey mornings. Enzo and I tramp through the well-tramped Henteleff trail along the river. Wildlife makes itself scarce, but everywhere, there are traces of its presence... An abandoned nest in the bleached strands of grass;

Enzo's fox-like conviction that field mice are running tunnels under the snow;

a coyote, small as a dot that crosses the river behind us

and snowmen that freeze, mid-exercise as we pass by…

Happy Friday!