Paczki
Throw Me A Lance and Call Me Quixote ...
well, let's just cut and paste -- shall we?
"How'd you come to know about Cervantes?" - Anony
The soundbite answer is: Bookplates.
Way back when, Mary bought a box of bookplates with a gesture drawing of Dom Quixote and the quote
"The man who fights for his ideals is the man who is alive" ~ Cervantes
printed on it. That quote struck Mary as being Truth. So she and the bookplates traveled through life together and that could have been the end of the Fab's knowing about Cervantes. But, fortunately, it wasn't because both Mary and the Fab would have missed out on one of the greatest writers and, perhaps, the greatest work of fiction ever written.
Oh, please. Learning doesn't happen that way. The segue wasn't bookplate to reading the novel. It was more like a twenty year process from bookplate, to song "The Impossible Dream" (from a musical kinda-sorta-based on the novel), to having someone accuse Mary of being "Quixotic" (funny how that phrase is never used as a compliment, but Mary took it that way), to an argument and a challenge on a message board wherein Mary (knowing that she was about to tilt at a windmill) titled the thread, "Throw me a lance and call me Quixote", which lead her to actually read the book because she had to use the book as a basis for the argument.
Oh, the Fab knows that it is all sorts of fun to just write whatever horrible things pop into your mind to people on message boards, but it is more of a challenge to use ideas, written images and quotes from a great work of fiction as your weapons. The Fab favors "Alice In Wonderland", but Mary, that time, chose Don Quixote and learned some amazing things in the process. Funny how everyone seems to win when learning, civility and chivalry are the rules for the discussion.
Everything after "bookplates" is the long answer Dear Anony, most of it anyway. Thanks for asking!
Sometimes People that you love say annoying things ...
Sometimes they say annoying things that are also -- wrong.
Added 02/17/2009 --> Very often, they realize the error and fix it, thus making the Fab's commentary -- more pointless than usual.
"Mother Theresa wasan atheist, filled with self doubt. But she was an authentic saint, because she always acted like one." - Seth Godin
link: http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2009/02/authenticity.html
A two word edit and all is right with the world again.
Sigh.
On the above, Mr. Godin is wrong.
Mother Theresa was not, by any stretch of the imagination, an Atheist. Ever. (Not that there is anything wrong with being an Atheist if that is a club that you have joined. Who is the Fab to say one way or the other. Mother Theresa, however, wasn't a member.)
Technically, neither is she a Saint. Yet.
But Mother Theresa ACTED as a saint does, all the time, which makes her a saint, and that was Mr. Godin's point. So, that part isn't lost.
He did state as fact, something that isn't. Which is too bad. The Fab does the same thing from time to time; when it is on purpose, she identifies it by announcing that "It is a known fact". When she does it because she believes something to be true, but it isn't, then the Fab is just wrong.
It happens.
Sigh.
Link to a Catholic Register article on the 'Atheism' of Mother Theresa.
http://www.ncregister.com/site/article/3762
Added 02/17/2009 --> Very often, they realize the error and fix it, thus making the Fab's commentary -- more pointless than usual.
"Mother Theresa was
link: http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2009/02/authenticity.html
A two word edit and all is right with the world again.
It happens.
Sigh.
Link to a Catholic Register article on the 'Atheism' of Mother Theresa.
http://www.ncregister.com/site/article/3762
Fantastic Fabiola vs. Her pop DOWN toaster ...
In a life-time of ill considered spontaneous appliance purchases, Fabiola's pop-down toaster is a triumphal synthesis of entertainment, suspense and ... at least occasionally, edible browned bread (or bagels, if ya narrow them up a bit).
I, Fabiola have a stainless steel commercial four slice toaster where the bread goes in from the top, as usual, but when the cycle is complete the newly toasted toast shoots out the bottom, hits a plate and almost always takes one bounce, sideways, mostly.
How many of you knew that leaping toast has hang time?
That hang time is a slow motion spiral during which the Fab's hand reaches out in an attempt at preventing toast from landing in the sink, or glancing off the counter edge and ending with a crispy scrunch on the floor. All in all, Fabiola prefers oatmeal in the morning, it stays put.
I, Fabiola have a stainless steel commercial four slice toaster where the bread goes in from the top, as usual, but when the cycle is complete the newly toasted toast shoots out the bottom, hits a plate and almost always takes one bounce, sideways, mostly.
How many of you knew that leaping toast has hang time?
That hang time is a slow motion spiral during which the Fab's hand reaches out in an attempt at preventing toast from landing in the sink, or glancing off the counter edge and ending with a crispy scrunch on the floor. All in all, Fabiola prefers oatmeal in the morning, it stays put.
The Fab would like for you to know about -- National Train Day
Northwest Ohio and Southeast Michigan celebrate
National Train Day
The anniversary of completing America's
first transcontinental railroad
Saturday, May 2, 2009
9:30 a.m. – 4:00 p.m.
Open House
Toledo Amtrak Station
Martin Luther King, Jr., Plaza
415 Emerald Ave. Downtown Toledo
Train Displays ● Musical Entertainment
Food ● Prizes ● Rail Art
Drawings for Train Trips
FREE ADMISSION FREE PARKING
For information 419-536-0993
TrainDayToledo@aol.com
Snow Drifts and Smelly Socks ...
Hello Darlings! This is going to be quick because I, Fabiola am typing this on the run. That horrible Mary had the Fab trapped in the bottom of a laundry hamper (under a particularly vile pair of work socks that Fabiola swears ... well we won't go into it but, clearly, a day spent inside workboots doesn't leave wool smelling like roses). Where was Fabiola? Yes. Hiding upstairs while Mary catches up on house cleaning that she neglected while dealing with snow followed by various other outdoor tasks. Like brining in wood for the wood stove. Warm is wonderful but out here it only happens with work. Sigh.
Anywho, Mary let the dog ride in the backhoe while she moved snow the other day, but did she leave room for the Fab? No. Anyway, I, Fabiola would have felt it necessary to point out that shortly after the snow was pushed to the side, the wind pushed it back. Trucks had to get in and out that day, so, perhaps there was a point to moving the same snow over and over. Perhaps Mary didn't want to hear that the job she was doing was almost pointless. In a way it struck Fabiola as being remarkably similar to doing laundry, clothes are clean, then they aren't, so you wash them. Then the clothes are clean again, quickly they become, not. Fabiola only wishes that she had encountered the work socks in the pre-dirty state. But then they wouldn't have been in the hamper with Fabiola, would they have? Fabiola supposes that life is an endless cycle of encounters with snow that won't stay put and smelly socks. Or something like that.
Anywho, Mary let the dog ride in the backhoe while she moved snow the other day, but did she leave room for the Fab? No. Anyway, I, Fabiola would have felt it necessary to point out that shortly after the snow was pushed to the side, the wind pushed it back. Trucks had to get in and out that day, so, perhaps there was a point to moving the same snow over and over. Perhaps Mary didn't want to hear that the job she was doing was almost pointless. In a way it struck Fabiola as being remarkably similar to doing laundry, clothes are clean, then they aren't, so you wash them. Then the clothes are clean again, quickly they become, not. Fabiola only wishes that she had encountered the work socks in the pre-dirty state. But then they wouldn't have been in the hamper with Fabiola, would they have? Fabiola supposes that life is an endless cycle of encounters with snow that won't stay put and smelly socks. Or something like that.
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