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A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
Choices Just because we can do (or make or invent) something, it doesn't mean that we should. |
Being Schooled Lilli asked an interesting question in Question of the Day yesterday. “What is something you learned in high school that you have never used in your adult life?” I’ve seen it asked before and know that most people answer with a branch of mathematics. Algebra is always a popular response and geometry gets several adherents too. I was a bit weird in that there were several occasions in my life where algebra proved useful. As I was reading through the answers to Lilli’s questions today, I asked myself, “Can you remember when something you learned in school had a sudden and unexpected use?” Language sprang to mind and I thought of Latin. Though I never liked having to learn what little I did of it, it came in handy when learning French. And then it was useful in deciphering other languages that I did not learn. Like Spanish and Italian. Afrikaans proved a point of contact with Dutch people on the internet years later. They would laugh at my spelling but it was, at least, a way of understanding each other. And French came abruptly into prominence on a train journey between Luxembourg and Brussels. Geography I would love, even if it had never given me an understanding of my present position and situation on the earth’s surface. And History places me in time and supplies me with a past. Chemistry I hated but have to admit that I’ve used some rudimentary memories of it on occasion. Pretty much the same goes for Physics. Then there were the things they didn’t teach us. What the Americans call Civics we never touched on. And being aimed at University, I never had the chance to learn Woodworking, Mechanics or Household Economics, all of which I studied for myself after leaving school. The net result is that I am grateful for what I learned in school. Even when it turned out not to be tremendously useful in real life, it was interesting and, at times, good fodder for the imagination. And, when it comes down to it, would school have been any better if they’d taught nothing but what was to prove useful in practice? Maybe I’m a weirdo but that sounds incredibly boring to me. Word count: 373 |
Foote on Writing Advice for writers is everywhere these days, so I feel no compunction in adding the following to the pile: If someone were asking me whether they should become a writer, I would always say emphatically no, have absolutely nothing to do with it under any circumstance. And, if he would listen to that, he certainly should not have been a writer. Shelby Foote |
Hold That Sauce Lilli had a huge response to her Question of the Day yesterday. Everyone, it seems, couldn’t wait to tell the world just how they like their oatmeal (porridge). After studying the vast array of various additives people use in porridge, I am forced to the conclusion that I am somewhat of an exception in this area. I reckon that I must be the only person in the world who actually likes porridge. Everyone else adds all sorts of things to the mix, presumably because they don’t like the taste. A little sugar I’ll allow but that’s it. Anything else is affecting the taste and texture of the real thing and you cannot claim to like porridge if these are so necessary. There are certain foods that it is sacrilege to add anything to because you spoil the unique taste that makes them so desirable. Porridge is obviously an example but an even better one would be lobster. If you have only had it with the innumerable additives that go to make up the various ways that people adulterate it, you have never tasted lobster (or Cape crayfish). Why spoil the food of the gods by making it taste like something else? The real heresy comes when you mix two outstanding tastes together to make something that can only be described as unfortunate. The best example of this is chocolate and peanut butter. Both are excellent tastes when on their own. Together they’re just rather oily muck. You may point fingers at me and laugh but the fact is that only I know how many foods really taste. The rest of you have experience only of some watered down, insipid and tainted version of the truth. Try it straight and you’ll see what I mean. And, Americans, please, exercise some restraint with the cinnamon. Yes, it’s a fabulous taste but you only demean it by putting it on everything. Use it sparingly and it retains its specialness. Word count: 326 |
I don't care what they say, the old songs are the best. This one was huge in the 16th Century: |