linguistic delights

Scaramuccia [It.] = skirmish. Both are of unknown origin, probably derived from Old French (according to the OED, anyway). See also scrimish, scrimmage, and forms of rubbish.

Go ahead, pronounce it. Let it roll off your tongue.

re-learning to listen to myself

One thing last weekend revealed to me in technicolor, something that I obviously needed to re-learn, is that pushing my body the way I have of late is not permissible. Or perhaps it is, but I do need breaks, and also to pay attention to things like nutrition. The nutrition bit I added on my own; I haven’t exactly been starving myself, just not paying attention to balance in my diet.

So I’m trying to eat – among other things – more mindfully. One thing that just occurred to me (I’m recording it here mostly for my own benefit) is something I’ve heard before but only tangibly felt now: when impulsively hungry, before getting food check if the hunger is really thirst.

This immediately takes care of two problems: the erratic eating schedule, and also the amount of liquids I’ve been ingesting, which for a while now has felt too low.

J. wrote again. This time I will write back, despite my intense feelings of guilt over not having written for… oh, long. My daily work will be changing rather radically come fall (more on this later). One thing I sure am looking forward to is figuring out ways to save some time, my most precious commodity, for my personal life. Won’t that be grand!

I’m behind on my blogging, again, as ever. Been too busy living.

solstice

Solstice is incarnate in my life this year, for it is my love’s birthday.

We shared last weekend with friends old and new at firefly, coming back home rather later than planned. Today, we showered, ate glorious Italian brunch food, read about consciousness, prepared and ate festive lunch and dinner food, and saw Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… and Spring. All day, as in the few days previous, I have watched this light-filled, sparkling being by my side, and have laughed to myself, delighted at the adventure of knowing him.

Happy birthday, Ethan, my longest sunny day. Race you to 29.

Frivolity.

So, I was curious as to whether finishing schools still existed. The first Google hit for “finishing school” is Miss Vera’s Finishing School For Boys Who Want To Be Girls.

Ah, yes. The times, they are a-changin’.

Our apartment has markedly fewer boxes. Remarkably, it also has a fully functional kitchen! First I’ll get back into the swing of work (oh boy, am I behind…), then mo’ blogging, possibly with significant news. (I mean, aside from the fact that my brother, sisinlaw and nephew will be moving from Italy to New York in short order. Whoo! We’ll live within driving distance! Mmm, I miss them so.)

Reagan dead at 93.

Ronald Reagan has passed away.

I know that many people are quite pointedly not aggrieved, given what they thought of him as president. I just can’t help being sad, though, for everything that man and his family went through, over the ten years of Alzheimer’s. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Soldier beaten by peers, army lies about it, film at 11.

Many news bits lately had me wanting to blog them, but living out of boxes (we weren’t really able to unpack all week, due to work going on in the apartment) is no incentive to blog or do anything productive for that matter.

This article, however, is chilling. Note the part with the “no misconduct” ruling. This is New York Times, free registration required.