Just recently I was dashing about, hither and yon, mostly yon, and my life was awash with encounters with life and its curiosities and frustrations. Lately, my life has dropped into a fabulous routine, if you have the patience that is the kind that likes to sit around on monuments, that is.
One of the interesting challenges with the elderly, which I knew but am now experiencing, is that they need both routine and a change in routine, daily. Like the old joke about how Grandpa used to say that variety was the spice of life, day after day after day after …. But as we get older our brains literally atrophy [Anyone can be a Polymath, thanks EO, a very worthwhile read, Xty] and this process can be retarded by constant challenge. But constant challenge is very hard to maintain an interest in it seems to me, and there in lies the rub. Fighting the old ennui, as it were.
I have found a unique solution to this as I already find even carrying out daily routine to be deeply challenging. I make every day a day in which I fight off the atrophying of my brain, by making that as hard a task as humanely possible. Kind of like high school. But I digress …
However, if you do have to watch the same thing every single day leading up to Christmas, I have to highly [it seems to help, Xty] recommend this half hour with Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra. Except for the quick ad for Chesterfield, “my cigarette”, as Frank says in the intro, it is highly [what she said, Xty] entertaining for all ages, and they do wish a Merry Christmas to everyone up to 92 . Mum is certainly testimony to its working its magic up to 82.
I have a weakness for Christmas carols, to make matters worse, despite my agnostic atheism, and am all for awe at the majesty of life, in many forms. Or I just want you to share in my twilight zone ground-hog day, with Bing Crosby’s White Christmas invading my every waking thought. [My sleeping thought was apparently about finding a minuscule tick in Mouse’s ear, and that is fodder for another day, Xty. [Hey, what happened to ed., ed.? [It’s complicated, don’t push me, ed., Xty]]]
Without further ado, and before the men in little white coats come to take me away, here they are, my new best buddies:
Oh, and have a Merry Frigg’s Day!
rather than confabulate about the friggen weather i’ll play my favorite Christmas song, and then i probably should go look up Frigg’s Day…
i must be disconfabulating my Gods and Goddesses. EO just friggin explained it the other day.
es ist kalt wie die Brust einer Hexe in einem Bustenhalter aus Messing.
I’ve done a bit more reading on the whole Frigg/Freya thing (a good thing to talk about on a Friday). It seems there is a pretty deathly feud going on in the pagan community over whether these are two goddesses or one.
If you go back to the Anglo-Saxon period in merry old England, there for sure is just the one, spelled Frige. And I’ve found that this spelling in Old English is pronounced Free-yah, so there you go, one goddess.
Ahh, but nothing is ever that easy. Fast forward a few hundred years to the Scandinavian Norse, and there is no doubt whatsover that they are talking about two distinct goddesses.
I think the only rational explanation is that is probably started off as one, then over time divided into two as the many aspects of womanhood tended to fall into (at least) two different baskets. In short, Freya is shorthand for the wild young maiden, all about beauty, sexuality, fertility, and magic. On the other hand, Frigg is all motherhood, home, family, and peacekeeping.
I see no problem in this. What woman has not worn both hats at different points in her life? In that sense it’s all one. But if you are concerned about one aspect in particular, yes I can see how you might offer up a thought to one and not so much the other.
It’s all good. The best religion does as Egg-Chen suggests in “Big Trouble in Little China”: “Take what you like, and leave the rest.” Not worth a deathly feud. Kind of like the war between silverbugs and goldbugs. Silliness.
I’m kind of rolling around a paradigm for the male side of things in my head also. One could look at Tyr, Odin, and Thor as correlating pretty well with Grandfather, Father, and Son, but that is perhaps a treatise for another day.
For further reading :
Frigga’s Shrine
Freya’s Shrine
this is my favorite Goddess for the time being.
my ex wife got me likin this song. can’t handle X tunes yet.
do you guys (gal) ever overthink the shit out of everything? random juke…elo been on my mind lately.
kinda strange, the weather splits north and south right before it arrives here, no ice,no sleet,,4 days of 40 rain….. bring it. you still asleep Woodpecker?
haven’t heard this in ages and then BooM its right here..cosmic message,,,sit tight.
9 Ways To Stop Overthinking Everything 🙄
“Birds also sleep with one-half of their brain awake! It’s called unihemispheric slow-wave sleep and keeps birds alert to potential predators while still catching some Zs.”
http://www.audublog.org/?p=7841
there is a 10th way EO…
love has locked us up Peaches.,we’re locked inside this zoo..anyway…gonna get my furnace straight today…t’stat is a total piece of shit and will soon be leaving my life to occupy a fine landfill somewhere.
thrashed, but still trying.