ho hum. today was more of a review day in the land of the bathroom book project.
You know, it was actually really pretty outside with the sun setting and the weather not too bad here. I even got out of the house and went grocery shopping. I was very productive and did homework and ran around dealing with public school bureaucracy and everything.
But it was a difficult day emotionally. I don't know how to explain it, or if you really need to know. Let's just say that living with people is HARD, and trying to make sure everybody's needs and feelings are being dealt with takes a lot of work. And sometimes its easier to ignore and neglect one person because they are oh so nice and aren't the ones yelling and crying in your face constantly.
Marek is having a hard time at school. And we are trying to change his school for next year, but that is like pulling teeth with him. Change, it's what's for dinner, but he'd rather starve sometimes.
So bathroom book project got sidelined today. There was no quiet ",me" time today. Just a quick re-read of the prologue of Russell's autobiography. That man was more passionate about finding ecstasy and bliss and love and helping humankind's problems than he was about finding the mathematical and numerical truths. This coming from the coauthor of Principia Mathematica. Which I haven't read either. And isn't on the bathroom shelf. Maybe it should be.
I'm thinking I need to rename this project, or shorten it into a cool acronym or something, because frankly, bathroom book project is a little vivid. Suggestions?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
And We're Back; With a New Mission
So it's been a while. I'm not even going to count it out. I just know that it is a lot longer of a time than I had previously thought.
I had friends in from out of town this weekend. It was super fantastic. The sad thing is they live three hours away. We should have seen them more than we did since the last time. It was something like 10 months. Too long.
Anyway, it was old college buddies hanging out at my house, eating my cinnamon rolls (more on those another day), drinking good drinks, and talking good talk, when Jon tasked me with something.
A little back story; my wife and I are bibliophiles, like really bad bibliophiles. We routinely give away, donate, and say goodbye to books. But they breed. More books come into my house than I can deal with. Now don't get me wrong. I love books; I read; my wife reads; my kids read; we READ.
I have a bookshelf in every room of my house. EVERY. The kitchen has one shelf for books; each other room has a whole bookshelf, if not more than one, dedicated to books. I have a bookshelf in the bathroom.
When we renovated our bathroom, we converted a European style bathroom with a WC and a separate sink and claw-foot tub bathroom into one bathroom. This means we had two doorways into the bathroom after tearing down the wall separating the two rooms. We decided, and it took a lot longer to implement than I originally thought, to turn that into a bookshelf. It was going to have shelves accessible from the hallway and from the toilet sitting next to it inside. Didn't happen. We needed all of those shelves inside the bathroom. The back is clear acrylic that I glued Japanese rice paper with gel medium to. Private, but brings a lot of light into the hallway.
Anyway, the tableau is set. Each time Jon comes down from the restroom he comments on the eclectic and interesting mix of books available to peruse when one is sitting on the porcelain throne. And he kept asking me if I had read some of the books. Which I have not read all of them; that's why they are in the bathroom -- to read.
So he wanted me to start reading the books on the shelves and report on what I had read. So here is my attempt at that task. Let's see how far I go.
Today I decided to start at the top, left-hand corner -- the beginning. This book: The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell, 1872-1914. Publisher: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1967.
I read pages 3-7, What I Have Lived For, and the frontispiece.
What I have learned: he was passionate about love, knowledge, and the suffering of mankind. And that he had horrid handwriting. There is an image of a poem of his as the frontispiece, and while a beautiful profession of his love for his wife (one of them, I think), it was not the stereotypical fancy-schmancy handwriting one thinks of when discussing handwriting from a century ago.
I find his passion and uplifting spirit energizing. Dude was super cool. Not sure? Check here.
The poem:
Through the long years
I sough peace.
I found ecstasy, I found anguish,
I found madness,
I found loneliness.
I found the solitary pain
that gnaws the heart,
But peace I did not find.
Now, old and near my end,
I have known you,
And, knowing you,
I have found both ecstasy and peace,
I know rest.
After so many lonely years.
I know what life and love may be.
Now, if I sleep,
I shall sleep fulfilled.
Who thought a logician and a mathematician could be so freaking sexy and romantic?
No other thoughts now.
Hopefully the next post will be sooner, and won't take as long to compose. I tell you what, reading takes a lot less time than writing about it (duh).
I had friends in from out of town this weekend. It was super fantastic. The sad thing is they live three hours away. We should have seen them more than we did since the last time. It was something like 10 months. Too long.
Anyway, it was old college buddies hanging out at my house, eating my cinnamon rolls (more on those another day), drinking good drinks, and talking good talk, when Jon tasked me with something.
A little back story; my wife and I are bibliophiles, like really bad bibliophiles. We routinely give away, donate, and say goodbye to books. But they breed. More books come into my house than I can deal with. Now don't get me wrong. I love books; I read; my wife reads; my kids read; we READ.
I have a bookshelf in every room of my house. EVERY. The kitchen has one shelf for books; each other room has a whole bookshelf, if not more than one, dedicated to books. I have a bookshelf in the bathroom.
When we renovated our bathroom, we converted a European style bathroom with a WC and a separate sink and claw-foot tub bathroom into one bathroom. This means we had two doorways into the bathroom after tearing down the wall separating the two rooms. We decided, and it took a lot longer to implement than I originally thought, to turn that into a bookshelf. It was going to have shelves accessible from the hallway and from the toilet sitting next to it inside. Didn't happen. We needed all of those shelves inside the bathroom. The back is clear acrylic that I glued Japanese rice paper with gel medium to. Private, but brings a lot of light into the hallway.
Anyway, the tableau is set. Each time Jon comes down from the restroom he comments on the eclectic and interesting mix of books available to peruse when one is sitting on the porcelain throne. And he kept asking me if I had read some of the books. Which I have not read all of them; that's why they are in the bathroom -- to read.
So he wanted me to start reading the books on the shelves and report on what I had read. So here is my attempt at that task. Let's see how far I go.
Today I decided to start at the top, left-hand corner -- the beginning. This book: The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell, 1872-1914. Publisher: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1967.
I read pages 3-7, What I Have Lived For, and the frontispiece.
What I have learned: he was passionate about love, knowledge, and the suffering of mankind. And that he had horrid handwriting. There is an image of a poem of his as the frontispiece, and while a beautiful profession of his love for his wife (one of them, I think), it was not the stereotypical fancy-schmancy handwriting one thinks of when discussing handwriting from a century ago.
I find his passion and uplifting spirit energizing. Dude was super cool. Not sure? Check here.
The poem:
Through the long years
I sough peace.
I found ecstasy, I found anguish,
I found madness,
I found loneliness.
I found the solitary pain
that gnaws the heart,
But peace I did not find.
Now, old and near my end,
I have known you,
And, knowing you,
I have found both ecstasy and peace,
I know rest.
After so many lonely years.
I know what life and love may be.
Now, if I sleep,
I shall sleep fulfilled.
Who thought a logician and a mathematician could be so freaking sexy and romantic?
No other thoughts now.
Hopefully the next post will be sooner, and won't take as long to compose. I tell you what, reading takes a lot less time than writing about it (duh).
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