One Job…

Two years ago, I ran a series of articles about odd jobs – or what you might also call just downright weird jobs, like worm farmers and paint-drying watchers (yes, they’re actually paying jobs).  I also enjoy coming across photos of simple jobs gone wrong – whether or not they’re messed up out of inattention, ignorance, laziness, or just attempts to get fired or get even. Here are a few such photos, just for fun.  Enjoy!

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On Leaving Footprints

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“Lives of great men remind us we can make our lives sublime, and, departing, leave behind us footprints in the sands of time.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Obscurities: Dustsceawung

Obscure 13

A word might become obscure because it falls out of use, or another word comes along that can do the job better; sometimes it’s because a word might be hard to pronounce at first glance, and sometimes it’s because the concept it represents falls into obscurity, dragging the word down with it.  I would say that the latter two reasons apply to today’s word: Dustsceawung. A noun, it means the viewing or contemplation of dust. The “contemplation” aspect also leads to a second definition: The reflection of former civilizations and peoples, and on the knowledge that all things return to dust.

In our fast-paced world, not many people take the time to contemplate dust. But I would argue that, now more than ever, such times of contemplation are healthy – even necessary – to give us a balanced perspective on life. So next time you dust your house or your car dashboard, be grateful you have a roof over your head or transport…take some time to enjoy a bit of dustsceawung, contemplating the good things in your life.

“In order to improve the mind, we ought less to learn, than to contemplate.”
Rene Descartes

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Filed under Etymology, Musings, Obscurities, Quotes

Wordless Wednesday #50: Parking

King Richard, Parking, Grave, Archeaology

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July 4, 2018 · 12:23 AM

Wordless Wednesday #49: Vintage Lugano

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June 27, 2018 · 5:18 PM

Postcard from Lugano IV

Greetings from Lugano!  Between my last postcard to you and this one, we’ve managed to emerge from the Dark Ages here and get internet in the flat.  We’re here for another week, and are being spoilt with perfect skies, crystal blue waters on the lake, and sunshine.

Before I let photos speak for themselves, I’d like to share an interesting story that happened today: My husband and I took a ferry to a small town on the lake, called Morcote, and we happened to sit next to an older couple the same ages as my in-laws. I find people fascinating, and so we started talking; before long, I learned the origins of their family names, about accidents when the husband was a small boy, their children and grandchildren, their careers, and a lot more. When they told me their first names, I mentioned that my husband had an older cousin with the same name, whose father was killed in a train accident in 1948 in Einsiedeln. It turned out that the woman’s cousin and uncle were on that same train, one car back from my husband’s uncle; they were severely injured, but both survived.  What are the odds of someone else from Zurich being on the same boat on Lake Lugano today, sitting next to us, whose family had also been affected by the same accident 70 years ago? It just goes to prove how small the world is, and that we just might have something (or a lot) in common with the person sitting next to us on a ship, or in a train, or on a subway, or in a concert, or in a classroom – we just have to break out of our own little bubbles and reach out. And it also reminded me that sometimes the smallest actions can change lives forever: Joseph Hüsler had wanted to bring his children (2 and 4 at the time) candy after visiting his aunts in Einsiedeln; he forgot, got off the first train he’d been on, and spent more time with the aunts after he’d purchased the candy, until the next train departed. That was the train that crashed. Curious, I found a couple archive photos from the time of the accident; here they are (both images, credit – http://www.waedenswil.ch):

1948 Zugunglück Wädenswil-Einsiedeln - 22 Februar 1948, 22 Starb - waedenswil.ch1948 Zugunglück - Wädenswil-Einsiedeln - 22 Starb - waedenswil.ch

We had a wonderful visit with the couple, and then waved goodbye as we went our separate ways. So, as promised, here are a few images of Lugano, Morcote, and surrounding towns:

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Wordless Wednesday #48: Careful

Careful or you'll en up in my novel

 

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Wordless Wednesday #47: Crop Circles

Crops

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June 13, 2018 · 1:58 AM

Life & all that Jazz: Flash Flood

LimmattalerZeitung May 2018

Credit: © KEYSTONE/EPA MTI/PETER KOMKA

For weeks, my husband and I had marked in our agendas this past Friday as the evening to do a bit of cleaning in our cellar – getting rid of bits & bobs we no longer use.  Nature gave us a helping hand in the decision process (you know the sort: Do we really need this? Should we chuck that?) when our town was hit by a flash flood last Wednesday.  To have a (muddy) tour of our area, just click here. A waterfall came pouring in around the frame of our cellar window, flooding the entire level; every neighbour had the same problem, so we’ve seen a lot of each other this week! Fortunately, our micro-geography kept us from getting a mudslide from the nearby (higher) agricultural and forest areas, and the water only reached 4-5 cm.  Others were not so well-situated, and several underground parking garages were buried in mud baths up to the car roofs; some people had hurried home to avoid hail damage to their cars, only to have them totalled as they were parked inside…

 

The company that handles our property’s administration organized de-humidifiers and large fans for each cellar room, but we had a busy few days trying to assess damage, getting things dried off or off the floor to let it dry out; the only things potentially disasterous were the small freezer we had there (fortunately, we didn’t have much in there at the time!), and boxes of one of our music CDs (ironically, titled “Plausch im Räge” – “Fun in the Rain”!); only the bottom boxes were affected, so I only had to hand-towel-dry 300.  When Friday rolled around, it was quick and easy to downsize our storage! It’s liberating to simplify; we tend to collect things over the years – large plant pots, picture frames that we used to have hanging in our old flat but which have had no wall space here (because of odd-shaped walls in every room), an assortment of hardshell suitcases that weigh more than half of today’s luggage allowance when empty, and so on and so forth. What we could, we gave to a charity shop, and the rest was quickly disposed of at a nearby collection service.  There’s still more to sort out, but we’ll have to wait for the floor to dry completely before we can move things back into place to get to the other half.

I was reminded once again what great neighbours we have; everyone pitched in together, and asked if they could help, or were concerned if others had suffered loss; all of our cellars have been open and drying, and everyone trusts each other with that; everyone is in and out of the other cellars, emptying the dehumidifiers’ tanks when they need them, checking window seals, etc. I’ve lived in areas (e.g. in Paisley, Scotland) where that would simply not have been possible – a nearby neighbourhood, Ferguslie Park, was one of the roughest in the UK, and if you left a bike outside of your flat inside your building, even with a lock, it would be gone within a few hours – or sometimes even minutes.  I hadn’t realised how used to the sound of gunfire I’d become until I moved to Switzerland; when the first national holiday approached and people started setting off fireworks a few days early, I’d just assumed they were gunshots.  Here, neighbours pull together; people greet each other, even strangers, in the streets; and though modern society tends to isolate each of us in our own, busy little bubbles, sometimes it’s a good thing that those bubbles of self-sufficiency, routine and agendas get popped.

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Thoughts about Props

The past fortnight I’ve been doing something that requires occasional brain-power but mostly just time, hands and space:  I’ve been making props (see below) – to be precise, a stage-prop sized crown (that will serve as a piñata, and then an offering basket), and a life-sized helmet, shield, and sword (the latter is still in progress).  In between those times of brain-work, I started to wonder where the word prop came from, and where it’s gone over its lifetime in English. And when did props become another word for congratulations, good job? It’s a noun, a verb, and an entire phrase or concept.

As an object used in a play, it came into English as properties and was in use in that theatrical context from the early 15th century; it became props around 1840 (we’re not the only generation to shorten words for convenience). In German, the word is “das Requisit” which is related to the English word “requisite” (indispensable, required, essential) which is kinda the point of theatre props.  Prop can also be used to mean support, both literally (for plants and the like) and figuratively (e.g. when a person is in a position of either authority or notoriety for no reason – yet not quite the same as a goldbrick, shirker, malingerer, or tool).  It can be the shortened term for a propeller (e.g. prop plane or turboprop), or proposal (e.g. a political issue up for vote). Props as a shortened slang for proper respect due for (a job well done) started popping up around 1999. In that context, it’s closely related to kudos (an uncountable noun meaning praise or accolades), which entered English as university slang in 1799, and comes from the Greek kydos meaning glory or fame (in battle).

That’s what I love about English – a simple word can have quite a pedigree!

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