Daily Update: August 4, 2009

Today we honor Saint John Vianney, Priest (died 1859). Born to a farm family in France, in his youth he taught other children their prayers and catechism. He was ordained in 1815, though it took several years of study; he had little education, was not a very good student, and his Latin was terrible. In 1818 he was assigned to the parish of Ars-sur-Formans, France, a tiny village near Lyons, which suffered from very lax attendance. He began visiting his parishioners (especially the sick and poor), spent days in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, did penance for his parishioners, and worked to lead his people by example. He had the gifts of discernment of spirits, prophecy, hidden knowledge, and of working miracles. He was also tormented by evil spirits, especially when he tried to get his two to three hours of sleep each night. Crowds came to hear him preach, and to make their reconciliation because of his reputation with penitents (in winter he spent up to eleven hours in the confessional; in summer, this time was extended to sixteen hours a day); by 1855 there were 20,000 pilgrims a year to Ars. He spent forty years in Ars as the parish priest, and is universally known as the Curé of Ars. He is the Patron Saint of confessors and of priests, and there is a little statue of him in the confessional at our church (on the side of the grill where the priest sits). Today is also Coast Guard Day; on this date in 1790, the Revenue Cutter Service was established by Alexander Hamilton under the Department of the Treasury with the construction of ten cutters and the recruitment of 100 revenue officers. In 1915, the Revenue Cutter Service and the Life-saving Service were merged to form the Coast Guard. So, Hug a Coastie today!

This morning I put out the flag; then Richard and I headed off to our Friday at work, noting that the back porch security lights were evidently burned out. (When you leave the house at 2:00 am, you notice these things.) My eight hours was spent mostly on blackjack, dealing to people who persisted in calling me “dealer” and who would split their tens (then complain that the cards were not going their way). At 9:00 am, I took a chance to get off my blackjack table, and spent the remainder of my time dealing Let It Ride, which was much more fun. Earlier in the day, I had not felt quite myself; I don’t know if I had a summer cold, or the doldrums, or sunspots, or what. On one of his latter breaks, Richard picked up two Pai-Gow manuals (one for our locker, and one for home).

On our way home, we stopped at the grocery for charcoal for the grill and some outside lights for the porch (then at another store for freezer tape). Richard then put the lights in, but they would not light; so he figured the fixture might have gone bad. He then went to do his casino laundry – and there was no power in the utility room. We checked the breaker – flipped it on and off – but that did not work; so he called the electricians (who we know). Meanwhile, I ate my lunch and was reading the paper. The electricians arrived and could not figure out what the problem was; they were saying they would have to go up in the attic tomorrow morning earlier (no one willingly goes up into a SouthWestCentral Louisiana attic in the afternoon in August willingly), and Richard was saying that we might have to take a staycation instead of a vacation in six weeks, if the electricians had to trace our entire wiring system. Then, the electrician who was methodically checking all of our outlets checked the one in the utility room, under the window – and the power came on. That particular room was added on by the previous owner (in fact, the door from the utility room into the house is the original exterior door, complete with the little spyhole in the door), and he did the wiring himself, in what is politely referred to as “jury-rigged”. So, the electricians fixed the receptacle; we will get a bill from them, probably mostly for their time, but we can still take our vacation. (Whew!).

I was tired, and had planned to take a nap right after eating my lunch; but I stayed up until Richard confirmed for me that the electricians had located & fixed the problem, and that our vacation was still on. I then went to bed, and took a nap from 3:00 pm to 6:30 pm, waking up only when Richard woke me up for dinner, which was well worth waking up for; he made ribs (for himself), New York Strip steak (for me), and hamburgers (for our daughter), mashed potatoes, baked beans, and steamed cauliflower, and we ate till we could not eat anymore. Richard also informed me that he already brought in the flag; when I asked why, he said, “well, the day is over!” (Usually, I bring it in the next morning, when I notice it out there.)

So now (having eaten, and also having said the Eighth Day of my Transfiguration Novena), I am going to do today’s Daily Update, then I will take a bath and read in one or two or three books or magazines before (eventually) going back to sleep again.

Tomorrow I will be going to Opelousas for my monthly visit with my counselor; after that, I will be going to Lafayette to get the next book I need to read for the Third Tuesday Book Club at Barnes & Noble. As I am third on the list for the next copy from the library, I fear I will need to purchase the trade paperback of the book at Barnes & Noble. Also, at some point tomorrow, I need to do my laundry, and to otherwise be productive here in my little slice o’ heaven.

Our Parting Quote this evening comes to us from Hans Christian Andersen, Danish author and poet. (In Denmark and in the other Nordic countries he is usually known as “H. C. Andersen”. His first name “Hans Christian” consists of two old, traditional Danish names pronounced as a single name. The combination of two individual names being spoken without a pause between the words is uncommon in the Danish language.) He was born in Odense, Denmark, to a father convinced that the family was connected to Danish nobility. As a child he built himself a small-scale puppet theatre, as well as clothes for all his puppets. He read dramatic works voraciously, many of which were plays by Ludvig Holberg and William Shakespeare, and throughout his childhood had a passion for literature. After his father’s death, he worked for a while as weaver’s apprentice as well as for a tailor. At the age of 14, Andersen moved to Copenhagen seeking employment as an actor. He had an excellent soprano voice and was accepted at the Royal Danish Theatre, though his voice soon changed with the onset of puberty. A colleague of his at the theatre had expressed to Andersen, that in his mind, Andersen was a poet. H.C. Andersen took this suggestion very seriously and began to focus on writing. In 1822 he published his first story, “The Ghost at Palnatoke’s Grave” while attending grammar schools, with the expenses of his schooling paid for by a patron. (He hated the schools, being older than the other students, and awkward both physically and socially.) In 1829, Andersen enjoyed considerable success with a short story titled “A Journey on Foot from Holmen’s Canal to the East Point of Amager”. During this same season, he also published a comedy and a collection of poems. He made little writing and publishing progress between 1829 to 1833. However, in 1833 he received a small traveling grant from the King. This grant enabled him to start on the first of his many future European journeys. At Jura near Le Locle,Switzerland, he wrote the story “Agnete and the Merman”. In 1833 he visited the Italian seaside village of Sestri Levante where he is credited with the naming of two of the town’s bays. In October 1834 he arrived in Rome. Andersen’s first novel, The Improvisatore, was published in the beginning of 1835, and it became an instant success. It was during 1835 that Andersen published the first installment of his immortal Fairy Tales (Danish: Eventyr). More stories, completing the first volume, were published in 1836 and 1837. The quality of these stories was not immediately recognised, and they sold poorly. At the same time, Andersen enjoyed more success with two novels: O.T. (1836) and Only a Fiddler. His Specialty book that is still known today was the Ugly Duckling (1837). After a visit to Sweden in 1837, Andersen became inspired by Scandanavianism and committed himself to writing a poem to convey his feeling of relatedness between the Swedes, the Danes and the Norwegians. It was in July 1839 during a visit to the island of Funen that Andersen first wrote the text of his poem Jeg er en Skandinav (I am a Scandinavian). Composer Otto Lindblad set the poem to music and the composition was published in January 1840. Its popularity peaked in 1845, after which it was seldom sung.  In June 1847, Andersen paid his first visit to England and enjoyed a triumphal social success during the summer. The Countess of Blessington invited him to her parties where intellectual and famous people could meet, and it was at one party that he met Charles Dickens for the first time. Ten years later, Andersen visited England again, primarily to visit Dickens. He stayed at Dickens’ home for five weeks, oblivious to Dickens’ increasingly blatant hints for him to leave. Shortly after Andersen left, Dickens published David Copperfield, featuring the obsequious Uriah Heep, who is said to have been modeled on Andersen. Andersen himself greatly enjoyed the visit, and never understood why Dickens stopped answering his letters. In the spring of 1872, Andersen fell out of bed and was severely hurt; he never quite recovered, and died three years later. In the English-speaking world, stories such as “Thumbelina”, “The Snow Queen”, “The Ugly Duckling”, “The Little Mermaid”, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, and “The Princess and the Pea” remain popular and are widely read. “The emperor’s new clothes” and “ugly duckling” have both passed into the English language as well-known expressions. In the Copenhagen harbor there is a statue of The Little Mermaid, placed in honour of Hans Christian Andersen. April 2, Andersen’s birthday, is celebrated as International Children’s Book Day (died 1875): “Nyd livet, du er længe død.” (“Enjoy life, there’s plenty of time to be dead.”)