We hadn’t mentioned it because we didn’t want a buzz going on, but Jane had been having trouble with irregular heartbeat, and after 2 bouts with a Holter monitor and visits to a cardiologist, plus an angiogram, we were shunted over to a second cardiologist with a specialty in the electrical (nerve) aspects of the heart, who ran an MRI and declared it was weird, but that an ablation might be in order, but HE sent us over to Seattle to consult with one of the specialists in the Cardiac unit of the University of Washington. Which Jane did. And that doc said indications are it’s over-active cells up in an inconvenient place, that urgently needed to be gotten rid of, and she could do that. So Jane got a surgery date for the UW Hospital, and we went home, then back again this Monday.
The surgery involves catheters passed up into the heart to zap the rascal cells, and this happened Tuesday. Jane overnighted in the hospital, a real nice place where even the hospital food is good—and the procedure was a success. She is now off the med that was controlling the problem. The doc is happy. We’re happy. We’re safely home again.
Very happy Jane is better!
But a hospital with good food? Did you check their license? Sounds dodgy.
Supper was baked salmon filet, salad, and green beans. We were amazed. I was worried about her getting something to eat after we (her brother and I) left, (at dark, and the procedure started at 11 am) . The whole staff was super good and super nice, which don’t always go together. We are all pretty tired. But the next day Jane walked out under her own power, and we all went out to dinner. They burned out almost all the misbehaving heart cells and what she’s got left is truly minor stuff. Doc is a specialist in this procedure, and gets all the hard ones. Which Jane’s was , because it wasn’t in an easily accessible spot. This means she comes off the heart med and she is very happy about that. It’s known for making one ‘glum’, and she doesn’t like being glum.
WOooooow!
Remember when something like that would be major open-heart surgery, a broadcast on TV? OK, walking out under her own power doesn’t sound normal. And dinner afterward, the next day? All this definitely does seem strange!
Clarification: When I was in the hospital they insisted I be in a wheelchair to go out to the car.
They did that when I had same-day surgery to put in a medical port – it’s a local-anesthetic thing, they did it in radiology because they needed the ultrasound equipment to locate the vein it feeds into. And also with the cancer surgery, where it was more reasonable (general anesthesia).
Very glad to hear that the problem has been found, dealt with, and that Jane is doing well. Take good care of yourselves.
Please rest some and enjoy yourselves. We will be hoping for continued good health and recovery. Bless y’all.
That’s got to be a relief. Take care, y’all.
My FiL had something like that; they did it by catheterization. They ran a probe in through the carotid artery in his neck into the heart, zapped the naughty cells, and called it good. I think they kept him overnight for observation. It’s a far cry from the old days when they had to crack your chest for something like that; one of our friends had a valve replaced and that’s how they did it. DH had to accompany him on the plane ride home, and the friend held a pillow to his chest all the way.
Glad that Jane survived the experience in good shape and spirits!
WHEW! Glad everything worked out OK! Great that Jane can get off the heart med. The fewer meds one has to take, the better. A big e-hug from the flatlands for her. Most things cardiac are much less invasive than they used to be. They put my stents in through a vein in my wrist, which was great by me. Any time they have to go in through the veins or arteries in the thighs, it’s sandbag time. Real, actual, literal sandbags, and you don’t move for hours and hours.
Ah, the bad old days of angiogram, when they went in through your femoral artery. “Don’t move for the next 6 hours, or you may bleed to death.” Of course, after that, you were simultaneously scared to twitch, and cursed with an urge to move.
Yep, that was part 1. She did that a month or so ago—and shared the room with a dog and a lady who had a brand new service animal, who was scheduled for an angiogram too, and who had not been given any guidance on what to do with a dog who was not ‘up’ for being separated from his person. When her turn came, Jane was back from her procedure and the lady told the dog stay, fastened his lead to her walker, and went off with the nurses. He was an excellent dog, just looked worried, put his head down on his paws and waited for a very, very long time for a dog. We didn’t approach him or try to talk to him, not to put social stress on him, but outside the fact I am quite allergic to dogs, he was no problem. I can say he was immaculately groomed and bathed, and I had no strong reaction to him. On the other hand, we chanced to describe the angiogram to Jane’s several very nice-looking male nurses, who were being far, far, far more careful with hygiene than the hospital in Spokane, and when we got to the dog, they certainly did a take.
Jane had what the doc called a major and serious problem. Three incisions later, operation by catheter, the misbehaving heart cells were zapped and done in and Jane was, within 4 hours, enjoying a good supper and the following day walking out of the hospital with no more than a set of bandaids. Ain’t tech and computers wonderful? They used adrenalin to bring on the problem while they watched, did some computer stuff, then came back and zapped the offenders. The surgeon is a specialist to whom our local cardiology people referred, Jane’s case being somewhat anomalous, in one of the best cardiology centers in the US. She is doing fine, though exhausted; and I’m suffering from sympathetic exhaustion. Just taking it easy today, after a 4 hour drive to get home yesterday.
I am very glad everything turned out alright.
So glad to hear that someone was actually able to diagnose the problem and treat it successfully and that Jane was able to reduce her meds.
That’s very fine news!
CJ and Jane, your previous post got all sorts of tangential replies, some fun stuff, including quite a lot of nonsense from me: Earlier in the week, I was adopted by one of the stray cats around the apartments, a half-grown kitty. Goober and I and he are still getting used to each other, with his first vet checkup appt. next week. There’s also some cool stuff about Dutch, and various other topics. (I’m still trying to discover the new kitty’s name.)
It’s amazing that they can do something like that with minimal invasive procedures, computer testing and data analysis. — The nearest hospital here was pretty good about their food. That really helped.
And, as the new kitty is reminding me, a full tummy and a good bed, a roof over your head, and people / fellow critters to be with who are friendly — sure make a world of difference. (I still feel bad about the serious mistake I made, giving away Smokey, and I still hope he got a good home somehow.) The new kitty is reminding me how the universe has a sense of humor and payback both. But also reminding me, well, as imperfect as my situation is, and as much as I’ve been fussing about it — I still have it a lot better than it could be, and I still have chances to pursue.
Bless Jane and you, and all the salads here. It is so good to see people like y’all and like WOL getting good results. Kinda makes up for all the crazy going on in the world news.
Order something in so you don’t have to cook. Treat yourselves. — By the way, I’ve had good results ordering from Kroger’s online and getting deliveries. There’s a small fee for the delivery, but it’s less than what you’d spend to drive there and back and less of your time spent. For y’all, when life throws you a curve ball like this, it could be a welcome option. Something ready-made from the deli or frozen section, or quick-fix stuff, fresh produce, salad kits, whatever appeals to you both most, there’s a pretty good selection. Not everything available in-store is on their website, and there are often substitutions (a few, not bad) but it sure could help you when you’re fatigued or sick or just plain don’t feel like messing with a lot of prep. You can check ingredients also. Just a thought. — I’ve had good results with Amazon Pantry too, but I’ve found you have to be careful of whether it’s a good deal, a pantry delivery, or too pricey compared to getting it from the grocery store. — And when my local PetCo closed and the newer location didn’t carry the dry cat food I usually get, reliably in stock, I switched to buying online from them or from Amazon. It’s helped. — WOL, while you’re recovering, this could be a good couple of options for you also. Just in case.
Slàinte Mhath—A toast to Good Health for Jane… and you both! Glad to know you’re home, hale and appropriately hearty. Indeed it is time for both of you to rest and relax.
I have heard Slainte before, as slan-chuh, stress on the first syllable, but from what I’ve gathered, “Mhath” could do a few things. Is it “vah” or “wah” ? Or is the vowel æ as in cat? And does the “th” go silent as I expect from what I’ve read? — Gaelic phonetic patterns do things I still don’t quite expect or have a handle on. I’ve read a little and watched a few videos on YouTube, but I’m still mostly clueless and curious. (Funny thing, for a while there, for no reason I could tell, I kept coming up with potential character names that were ultimately Gaelic origin.)
Good to hear from you, and that Jane is doing well. A very stressfull situation, but happily taken care of.
Take it easy for a while, I’m wishing you a speedy recovery and relaxation from the worrying.
My aunt had something that sounds similar, but not in such a difficult to reach spot, nearly a decade ago. There is a patch of the cells in your heart that sends out an electrical signal to contract, that starts each heartbeat. That signal races around the heart in the pattern that causes it to go ta-thump, the way it should.
Apparently, sometimes elsewhere on the heart some cells can go rogue and start sending out such signals on their own, mis-timed from the pattern, which can cause stuttering in the heartbeat, the different parts not working together in sequence like they should.
A very scary feeling, not good at all, but treatable (as you’ve discovered) and simpler to recover from than a heart attack because the heart itself, and its blood supply, aren’t damaged (except for that tiny ablated spot, a minuscule scrape on the heart wall, they called it to my aunt).
For my aunt they also went in through a vein to ablate the rogue cells with a laser, just like you said, and it quickly and completely solved that problem.
I’m wishing Jane well, hoping her recovery goes just as well.
@BCS, a (striped, swirley or mackarel) tabby cat in Dutch is Cypers, een cyperse kat. I have no idea why tabbycats are associated with Cyprus in Dutch, but they are.
Non-cat striped = gestreept, een streep = a stripe; e.g. a striped sweater = een streepjestrui.
Boots = laarzen, 1 laars.
Ochre = oker, rustbrown = roestbruin, pottery orange = terra cotta (lietrally imported from the Italian), brown = bruin (which English stories use for bears…).
Cyperse? Hmm…an association with Cyprus and copper, and my old school district was Cypress-Fairbanks. — I will try Cyperse and see if that fits him. Thanks!
een streepjestrui — streepje + strui? and ui is “ow” in English, “au” in German, if I have that right, so a sweater is een strui? oe is oo, so roestbruin is roohst-brah-oon, and rust is roest. Good so far. English also borrowed terra cotta directly, and it’s good to know oker — in English and in paint colors, there are yellow ochre, orange ochre, and red ochre, and ochre is the oldest pigment associated with both human art and human ritual and personal decoration, though carbon black / charcoal dates from then too. — Does Dutch make those distinctions for colors of ochre, with oker by itself implying more towards red or orange brown? Bruin, I would have to look up to see if English gets the “bruin” (plural bruins) we use for bears from Dutch or from another Germanic or else a Gaelic/Celtic source. But yes, in English, “bruin(s)” is almost exclusively used to describe a bear and the bear’s (usually) brown color. Somehow, I think through the source we borrowed it from, it carries the meaning of “bear, bears” as much or more than the meaning of brown. Such as the Chicago Cubs and the Chicago Bruins. (My knowledge of sports approaches zero to nil very fast, haha.)
When I tried Google Translate, I got gestreept, and also got the words tabijn and getijgerde, I take it tabijn is a noun or adjective and getijgerde is both an adjective and a verb past participle. It looks like tijger, which I’m assuming is tiger, tiger-striped. It gave one of those as the Dutch for “brindled.” (Brindled is the sort of varied color that the light parts of a cat’s fur, between the dark stripes, have, so a sweater can also be brindled, if the yarn is dyed to vary its color, dark, medium, and light.)
I still like Curry, Rudyard, Rufus, but hmm, I’m going to try Cyperse or Cyprus, and Tijger or Getijgerde. So far, the names don’t seem to be sticking. There’s supposed to be a Eureka moment for both human and cat when it fits. 😀
—–
Not even 8:30 yet, and the day began with more excitement than expected. When I came back from putting out the trash, the new kitty slipped out past me. I wasn’t sure if he’d gotten past or if he’d gone back in or if I’d felt something else, since my foot brushed the door too. I’d closed the door, I opened it to look, didn’t see the cat. So I closed the door and looked through the apartment. Ack, no kitty. (Goober was there, wondering why I was worried and why I wasn’t stopping to pay attention to him after getting in. Pet him a bit.) So I looked outside again. Uh-oh, no sign of the new kitty. I might not see him until evening, or he might have decided four days was too long a stay indoors, and no thanks.
I checked inside again, then looked back outside, called, looked around. A car and people walking or standing around in the early morning, talking to themselves, drinking. (Not, apparently, the guy from before among them.)
I was about to go back in when I heard, “Meow-ow-ow?” as a simple question, as in, “What are you worried for, I just stepped outside, human.” Hmm, and he trotted up, so I picked him up, carried him back in, and told him what a good kitty he was and how welcome, for coming back.
Whereupon, breakfast feeding ensued. Two very happy cats, one very happy human. Everything’s fine. Goober and the new kitty almost met over the keyboard while I was on the other side of the room. Goober gave a faint hiss. I think there was an overture towards a greeting or play from the new kitty, but again, his manners are a bit lacking in the feline and human social graces; certainly from Goober’s refined, gentlemanly idea of courtesies. Heh. But OK, it’s another start. The two backed off with no trouble.
So, doing fine after a few minutes thinking I’d lost the new kitty for a day or altogether, but happily averted. He’s happy to be back in. (Hey, food! Hey, attention!) So this may or may not cure him of that urge, but the takeaway point is, he wanted to come trotting back to me, happy he hadn’t been separated either, and (I suspect) happy to find he hadn’t been forgotten or rejected, happy to be welcomed back.
So, whew, all’s right with this tiny bit of the world.
— Everyone, I’m still trying out names for the new little cat, brown tabby with a ginger undertone to his fur. So far, nothing has quite stuck as, aha, that’s the name, so ideas are welcome.
We’ll see, Cyperse or Cyprus has possibilities. Cyprian or Cypriano seems a bit long.
I don’t recall how long the original tale (in French) for Puss in Boots is, but I’m going to try it today, to see how my (lol) 18th century and modern French are doing.
I’m likely to use Marijn for a name in a story. One of the (English) naming sites lists Dutch nicknames for Marijn and Marinus as Rien or Riny plus a couple of others, and those seem to fit boys or girls (it doesn’t say). (I’d be more inclined to Riny, since “rien” is “nothing” in French, which, hmm, I would not ever call anyone that. It didn’t give Rijn as a possible nickname; is it?
I’m going to pet both cats again to get across that everyone’s welcome, and just in general, and then try Puss in Boots from M. Perrault’s story. (Ah, yesterday, I misspelled contes as conts, but no, with the E is the proper spelling, although they were iffy on l’oie versus l’oye back then, for Mère/Maman L’Oie/L’Oye, who was the source for English’s Mother Goose.
I keep meaning to reread M. Descartes’ essay on how watching a fly cross the ceiling gave him the inspiration for a grid of (x, y) Cartesian coordinates. So this may happen Tod too.
At some point during the day, I’m going to study an hour or two in the Dutch textbook Chondrite sent me. — And I’d rewatched Master and Commander last night, so I am in the mood to restart reading that book. So some late 18th century French literature seems highly appropriate. At some point, I’ll want to try something from the same period in Dutch. — I am not yet up to trying Don Quixote in the original, but that’s an eventual goal.
Cyprus, eh? The island that gives copper it’s name, with the hard “k” sound. The classical Greek form of the name is Κύπρος (Kýpros). That’s a kappa, not a sigma. There’s also the mispronounced Cephalopoda (Greek plural κεφαλόποδα, kephalópoda; “head-feet”). We ought to get rid of the “C” that leads to so many mispronounciations. We have the “K” amd the “S” that cover both “C” sounds, and make it clear which is to be used.
Dutch rules for pronouncing the letter C depend on the following vowel sound: ka ko ku se si, and sy.
Meaning both Cypers, Cyprus and Cicero are pronounced with S-sounds, instead of the original K.
And copper, to preserve the K- sound, is spelled “koper” with a K, the same as the word for ‘buyer’.
@BCS, regarding -uw- in Dutch, unless the W is at the start of a word it will always be preceded by U, often barely pronounced but rounding the mouth in preparation for the W, preserving the W-sound from going to a V-sound.
If you’re trying Cypers as a name, I’d leave off the -e inflection at the end: calling “Sai-purs” is easier.
The darker ticking at the end of lighter hairs is called Agouti or “wildkleur” (wild color).
Streepjestrui: trui (plural truien) = sweater; streepje = little stripe, plural streepjes. Dutch sprinkles diminutives around like salt, they get into everything.
Tabijn I’d never heard of, might be Flemish. Looks like it was derived from tabby.
Tijger = tiger; getijgerd = tigered, i.e. tiger-striped. The -e on the end is an inflection to go with the following word.
Just to add to your confusion:
Dutch is quite flexible in allowing one kind of word, like a noun (or a verb), to be turned into another kind of word, like an adjective (or a noun, or a verb) by adding prefixes and endings.
The noun tiger for instance can also be used as a verb: “Wij tijgerden door het lange gras” = “We crept like tigers through the tall grass’, i.e. like a cat on the hunt.
This is why playing Wordfeud in Dutch is so frustrating: it disallows any word not in the official spelling-guide, but many more combinations and derivatives are perfectly normal Dutch words, as the guide itself says: it is not meant to be an exhaustive list.
@Hanneke: “If you’re trying Cypers as a name, I’d leave off the -e inflection at the end: calling “Sai-purs” is easier.”
But perhaps the hard “C” sound for a cat is somewhat appropriate? (Kippers?)
Good one, Paul!
I’m so accustomed to hearing that word with an S-sound, it never even occured to me – blinded by familiarity.
@BCS, the Zuiderzee = south sea, to contrast with the North Sea between England and the Netherlands. Middle sea or East sea might have been a more logical name, considering its location, but Zuiderzee it was – it doesn’t exist anymore.
It was the bit of sea reaching into the country from the north all the way to Amsterdam, and it became the IJsselmeer (IJssel-lake, lake fed by the river IJssel) once it was completely dammed off (except for a couple of locks for ships to go through) from the sea by the Afsluitdijk (closing-off dike) in 1932 for flood-prevention. It changed slowly from salt seawater through brackish to sweet water.
I remember hearing that pronounced as “Zī-der Zee” by my teacher, and probably by the elementary school textbook’s phonetics. (Long I/Y there.)
So it’s (or it was) the Zuiderzee, “zow-der zay,” approximately, for Southern Sea. — I am having a hard time wrapping my head around UI as AU/OW, even though I’ve seen it many times now.
Maybe this will help set it in memory.
It’s possible to estimate when the C and G and J, T and D, changed from hard to soft palatal sounds in Latin history, but I don’t know when this was supposed to have happened. The Germans borrowed Caesar as Kaiser, so it was a K then and the ae had not yet changed to EY. But the Russians borrowed Caesar as Tsar, so it had probably changed by then. And into the mix, Anglo-Saxon either had some of its C and G sounds develop into soft CH and JH, or else it borrowed the use of that spelling from Latin at the time, along with Æ for a as in apple and cat. Anglo-Saxon spelling was more regular about things that got hashed later, first by the Norman French trying to spell how they heard Saxon English, and then by later sound changes in English around and after Shakespeare and King James. Our gh would make far more sense if it had just stayed H like the Saxons did it, or G when it was a G (hard) or GH (blurry) in Saxon. They used CG for soft J/DG.
Knowing about Saxon G and H helps me a lot, not to be too surprised at how Dutch G keeps turning up. — I am not yet to the point where I hear Dutch pronounced as it should be, in my head, the way I would if I were in a class. But it’ll get there.
@BCS, ui does not sound like au or ow!
It’s one of those sounds that I can’t think of an English equivalent for. It sounds like the French for eye “l’oeil”.
This site has good, genuine Dutch pronounciation to listen to (from my random sample of a few -ui- words), for specific sounds: https://www.heardutchhere.net/DutchPronunciation.html#UI
Oh my gosh, thank you! — This far into it, and basic pronunciation and other things which the books ought to explain right away — are missing, in this chunk or that one, from the books I’m using. — I am going to compile notes in self-defense to get material together where, really, I would’ve expected it would be to begin with.
I’m familiar with Spanish, French, and German sounds, and I’ve seen enough about Greek to have a handle on their sounds. Russian and Irish/Scots Gaelic, I’ve read and heard enough of to have some feel for the sounds, though Gaelic’s rules elude me.
So anything from those vowel or consonant systems, and a few more exotic things from the IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet), I can understand, hear and speak.
What I’d seen in the Wiki article on the Dutch language gives a summary of the vowels, but not how they are typically spelled, or how they interrelate. The article also goes over sound change across the countries where Dutch is spoken and makes some claims about big cities versus rural, that regional gradient again, and younger versus older generational differences in what might be trends for language change. — But that’s so broad that it doesn’t tell me a lot about what is most typical, standard, and well understood by most or all Dutch speakers, and just didn’t do a lot to clarify what’s going on and which sounds are used when, and with what spellings.
One of the two grammar guides I have goes over the alphabet, long and short vowels and how those are typically spelled, close and open vowels also, but not the large number of other two or there vowel letter combinations which Dutch uses. — From what I can gather, earlier Dutch had more vowel distinctions which have since simplified for all speakers, and of course, the language is always changing.
The (rather basic and spotty) books on the language each have weaknesses from a learner’s standpoint, especially when a student (like me) is used to a more grammar-centered approach, and to introducing units of related vocabulary words, and things like covering parts of speech in units — the approach most language classes take, unless they go for the newer, less structured approach to throw phrases and words at you without enough explanation of how and why those fit together in a sentence (i.e., grammar). I don’t like the “phrases / conversational” supposedly naturalistic approach as much. The grammatical approach suits my need to understand the structure and process better.
— Today’s / tonight’s study task is to get the books you and Chondrite sent from where they’re sitting (on my bed’s headboard) and look them over in more depth. Possibly those will help more than what I’ve got so far.
I will be listening to those along with the other audio resources you’ve given links to, and looking around on YouTube. — Hearing spoken Dutch and trying to break that down into words with comprehension is still giving me trouble. Some words will stick out as, oh, that sounds like this in English, but with the vowels and sometimes a consonant or two changed. Other words are too different in pronunciation or not cognate, so that I can’t guess at them yet. — But the more I study the written and spoken forms, the more of the spoken language I’ll get. — Self-study without as much hearing/listening and speaking practice, is weaker on that than a classroom or lab practice setting, which is not as strong as “in the wild” listening to and talking with real speakers, a variety of speech and situations, true immersion.
But I am having fun with it and learning some.
UI as French eu, œ, both close/long and open/short; German öh, ö. OK, got that, that’s easy to remember and I’m very familiar with the rounded vowels, U as in French U, tu, une, and German üh/ü. I know the difference between the long and short German sounds too. And then there’s English short a, ă, æ, which is the same sort of thing, and would have fit with äh/ä in Old or Middle German, and probably Dutch.
“We tiered through the tall grass.” ~ “Wij tijgerden door het lange gras.”
Now that has a fine poetry to it. To tiger, as a verb. I wish English would use “to tiger” as a verb. That’s so evocative…and slinky and wild, fierce but not necessarily too fierce.
English is very free-wheeling with turning words from one part of speech to another, so that again seems like close cousins with Dutch. “To tiger.” I am very sure that both Hobbes and Tigger would approve.
LOL, Kippers would be calling the cat two or more fish. 🙂 Or else some sort of vegetable add-on, I think.
…I’ve tried out Cypers and Cyprus a few times today. This little guy is curious but not always motivated. The idea of coming when called either hasn’t really occurred to him, or else it still seems too risky, so not much reaction. (He responds to sounds, so his hearing isn’t impaired.)
I got an “Oh boy, play with me, I’ll wrestle your arm!” (pounce) earlier today while petting him. Kittenish excitement at getting positive attention, plus that need/want to play with a friend, but he hasn’t yet learned how to hold back and go light or keep his claws in. He’s mostly OK about using his teeth, but he needs to learn to be better about both. I am happy that he is happy and wants to play though, and likes getting attention.
He is definitely his own little personality. A bit like Smokey in some ways, but he is his own cat. Still learning who he is, and still dealing with teaching good manners.
But earlier — greeting him, petting him, he got up and gave me the first two head-bumps. I’m now a safe enough human to consider giving me a head-bump.
Dutch using diminutives a lot — That seems like a playful, friendly thing, good-natured humor or a tendency to be cute. Or just a thing Dutch does.
And…this kind of friendly discussion, getting to know more about someplace and people I know too little about, yet with so much history and character — This is what we need more of for everyday people and for international relations. If more people could realize the positive things about people and places elsewhere in the world than just their little corner or town, we’d cut down on so much of the negatives, the xenophobia, hatred and fear and exclusion that…scared or small-minded people (two different things) too often have.
And why is it I don’t know more about the Netherlands than I do? That’s…strange. Most of what I know isn’t from school, either, but from things I’ve picked up over the years. — But oddly enough, from very early in elementary school, from before history or geography were separate classes, I can remember we were learning a little about Europe, and for some reason, besides a few (probably outdated) things about the Netherlands we learned, was — somehow, the Zeider Zee as a name stuck out to me. As a little kid, it didn’t bother me, it didn’t seem funny or weird or nonsensical, like it seemed to for some of the other kids, that Dutch people would call it a “zee” instead of a “sea,” or whatever “Zeider” might mean (that wasn’t explained, it was simply a place, a part of the Netherlands). Instead, “Zeider Zee” sounded far away and interesting, just a little exotic or mysterious, I guess. I am sure I got other things about Europe and world geography and basic history in that class, but the “Zeider Zee” must have been one of those first moments when my young kid brain woke up to the idea of other, non-American-English, ways of speaking or being. I was old enough to be reading things in a textbook. This might have been 3rd or 4th grade, probably after 2nd grade, I’d guess. Somehow, that just came back to me. I don’t know what else I learned in that classs now, but that bit stuck with me.
My first foreign language class was in 7th grade, but I’d already shown an interest in a couple of books about language and wordplay, Rudyard Kipling’s Just-So Stories among them, but a non-fiction book I got for Christmas at about, maybe 11 or 12? that helped spark whatever interest I was already showing.
(But also, I did grow up with kids, American or immigrant, who were from other backgrounds, which must have played into that, and in 6th grade, a new student from China (not mainland, but Taiwan, ROC) came to our school. — So sometime between early elementary and 6th grade, my language sense was already showing itself. — Gosh, I don’t remember what grade it was that I had one elementary teacher who took an interest. She had a chance to visit around when I was in high school, about to go to college. Maybe one of my 4th grade teachers? — I don’t know if she’s still around, but Mrs. Arbor was really a nice person and a good teacher.
It’s funny, I hadn’t thought about reading about the “Zeider Zee” in so long, ut I have this second or two of mental image of a plain, flat-color map showing what had to have been Europe around the Netherlands, with the Zeider Zee there. — I don’t have conscious memory enough of it to say what the Zee or the land around it looked like, or any names of nearby towns or regions.
Dang it, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent. Oh well. I wonder what signs I was showing that I might have an aptitude for languages. Both my mom and dad had had a semester or two of German in college, and my mom had had a semester of Italian. They would’ve known I’d need a foreign language for college entrance, and they knew (and fostered heavily) my love for reading, and knew my reading level. They both had some level of language proficiency too. But I’m not sure why they tried out a couple of books on language, then to suggest that first intro to foreign languages class for 7th grade. Maybe also how positive my response to that Chinese friend was. 🙂 (And I wish he and I had known each other better, but for some reason, both his parents and mine were reluctant for us to visit each other. Never did know why. We were good friends at school.)
The little things that go into making us who we are, even so early on….
TO ALL:
My much-loved Spanish pocket dictionary, in a newer edition, in case the grandson does not have it. While it is not as complete as a good desk shelf college-level bilingual dictionary, and it is more “big chunk” than “pocket,” this dictionary served me through Spanish I and II in jr. and sr. high, my one trip to Mexico City in between high school and college, and into college and beyond. I gave my first (older edition) copy to the cabbie who drove us around while there in Ciudad México, D.F. and promptly bought another when we got back home. The current one I have was bought after my latest move. So it’s pretty good. For your grandson, if he does not already have a good big desk dictionary at college level, he is fluent enough by the description that these would be an ideal gift for him for starting back to classes. I was gifted with my old American Heritage College Dictionary when I was around that age, about 12 or 13, if I recall correctly. For someone good at languages and on track for college and perhaps grad school, if he doesn’t have those yet, heheh, feed the book habit and the love of languages. 🙂
Ramondino, Salvatore. Ed. New World Spanish-English / English-Spanish Dictionary, The. 2nd Ed., © 1969, 1998, Signet Books Penguin Group. ISBN: 978-0-451-18168-8.
My French Lit. I & II textbooks; I don’t know if they are still in print. I am very happy mine are still in good condition despite everything:
My French Literature I and II textbooks
Spring 1985 – French 302 – Dr. Hunting
Bishop, Morris. Ed. Survey of French Literature, A. Vol. 1: Middle Ages to 1800. Rev. Ed. © 1965. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Illus.: Kingsbury, Alison Mason. LoC ISBN: 65-14282.
Bishop, Morris. Ed. Survey of French Literature, A. Vol. 2: The 19th and 20th Centureies. Rev. Ed. © 1965. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Illus.: Kingsbury, Alison Mason. LoC ISBN: 65-14282.
Note: It’s been too many years since I last wrote an MLA biblio citation, and my handbook was from the mid-1980’s. Besides obviously the ibid for the second reference, if there’s anything I’ve missed in the modern format, I don’t know. My old MLA handbook is in storage or no longer exists, so at some point, I’ll need to buy a new one.
I am fairly sure the (x, y) coordinates, as described by Descartes, are in the one essay I see listed, namely, «Le discours sur la méthode». I only see one or two essays or excerpts from Voltaire and Rousseau. I could swear we had something else from both. But Voltaire’s quote about defending to the death the rights of others to believe differently, I think is in that essay.
…Some three hours later…
Good grief, you mean I’ve been reading for three hours through an academic essay, then an intro biography précis on Descartes, then only a few paragraphs into his actual essay, which was the only actual French presented? Eegads.
Well, but that tells me two important things: (1) I can still read type at that size, about 8 or 9 point of quite dense Baskerville or another somewhat similar font. I’m surprised I can still manage that size. Oh, but that’s good news! (2) Whew, all right, I see my French is both better and worse than I thought since the last time I tried this. I was either reading through and getting a pretty good sense of it at a fair speed, or else I was fighting a bad tendency to test myself but to translate into English in doing so. Ah, that’s not helping. I need to get past both to the point where I’m paying good attention, reading and absorbing it, thinking in French without translation into English, which, dang it, I can do better than I was doing. I did keep my dictionary handy for when I didn’t know a word, when I was in college too. But also, I was fluent enough to understand it better than that brief dip into some pretty precise and serious adult-level French.
I’m going to pick it up again tonight or tomorrow, and I think I can give daily an hour to Spanish and French, alternating. This test made me feel better about how much vocabulary I sell have squirreled away back in memory, but which hasn’t been sufficiently exercised lately. I got the impression that with not much more practice, I’d shake the rust off (there’s that word again) and get back to something like my previous level. — CJ, Spence, and other French speakers / teachers — My French fluency level was not quite as good as immersion-level conversational, but was good enough to have tested out of a few semesters, due to my high school French III fluency, so that I’d taken the 4th in the usual college sequence to start off, and by Spring of 1985, i.e., my 2nd semester of college, to begin (in French only, in class) the Survey of French Lit. I & II course, completed my next semester. So I could read and write, speak and listen, well enough to make A’s except for one B, throughout. I would say my ability at oral conversation was weak by native French standards, but above average to very good, by most students’ (non-native) standards. That is, I could think in French to the point that I was beginning to insert French into my other class notes and to have bits of dreams in French (with Spanish and English in there when I didn’t know the French, haha). About what an A student or someone going for a language major might do. I remember what areas of grammar I had weak spots in (the literary tenses, subjunctive versus indicative, prepositions sometimes, the more advanced vocabulary) but I was OK with the verb system and the noun/adj. system otherwise. (I notice lately a weird tendency to blur noun gender which I did not have as a student, and a little trouble with when the past particles are supposed to agree with the subject or object, which I also didn’t have , or not to this degree, back then. My spelling and grammar were very good, and my pronunciation was usually near native, except that some words could fool me at times, as as those old literary tenses and when French il/ill and lh become a y- sound.)
But I would guess that now, I need work to reinforce those, plus to make sure I get the verb system back to where it should be for good comprehension and translation. I know that since Spanish and French have very similar verb systems, those will reinforce each other, like they did when I had my school fluency level.
I remember the French lit. classes were wading through, with so many new words, to learn those and make sense of the adult-level, college-level French, but it was doable and I liked it very much.
So…I got nearly everything of what I read, but I will need to get my Larousse out to keep handy, as I couldn’t guess at least two to three words of what I read of the essay itself. Goal: To get through the entire (slightly abridged) essay with full comprehension. I think I can do that with better results than when I was taking the class, if I can just shake off the rest and get back into thinking in French without the dissonance going on that I just felt.
Still, oh wow, that was better than I’d expected I’d do. — A break and I’m going to get to writing and fonts after lunch, some more study tonight. happy with that. If I can read Spanish with about that same level of rustiness, then I’m in much better shape than I think, and so I can build on my old level once I get back to it, with both languages. Bonus: I am around Spanish more, but without direct, immersive, daily conversation to get me thinking on the fly. My attempts lately at talking to people in Spanish have been too halting and missing in vocabulary, but otherwise, fair enough. But I can also tell from that, I need serious review of Spanish II, at least; the irregular verb forms and a review of which tenses and moods to use and their regular forms, because somehow, I have become way too fuzzy on that in the intervening years. I keep getting unsure about things I know dang well I should know, and I don’t think I would have been nearly so halting and fumbling for words as I have been now. I would have still needed a lot of everyday vocabulary to get by in immersion settings like this, such as talking to maintenance men or neighbors and their kids, everyday speech outside of the (easy) classroom and lab practice settings. — Oh, I want to be back to the level I was in high school and college. — But what I’m seeing is OK, more workable than I’d thought, for French, and may get back to good proficiency for both, with enough diligent review.
Dutch? Hah, I am barel a beginner. I can’t really make out spoken Dutch yet, but you saw how I did guessing at that written paragraph. I have the feeling once I soak in enough to get the patterns going and the basics of vocabulary and grammar, I should begin to have minimal fluency. Once I see I’m beginning to read paragraphs OK, or understand native spoken Dutch, or (the biggie) able to speak coherent sentences on my own, not just following textbook exercises, then I’ll be better off. I wonder when I’ll have enough of a base built up to begin thinking in Dutch. The thing is, Dutch and English are similar enough that I expect that sooner than when I was learning Spanish and French in jr. and sr. high. I keep getting surprised that I can already recognize (or almost recognize) as much as I have so far. So it seems like I’ll get there quicker than with the others.
So far, so good. I’m relieved. — And reading one of the seminal thinkers of 1600’s French philosophy and science, not too shabby either. 😉 I wasn’t expecting to do that well. Very glad at what I saw.
At some point soon, I will try recording Descartes’ essay as presented in my textbook, which should give you all an idea of my accent and fluency at present. — Dang, turning thin pages of tiny type, though…. 🙂
I’ve always had an easier time reading for context in a non-English language than listening, being more visually oriented. In college, I was doing an exam for basic German and had a shocked giggle when I read one of the passages about a friend coming to stay with his 2 large dogs and 3 small dogs (zwei groBe Hunde und drei kleine Hunde), which got me a sharp look from the examiner. The other people apparently didn’t get the humor.
C. J., I’m greatly in favor of you and Jane just kicking back for a few days and taking life easy, doing favorite things that relax and eating some favorite foods, resting when you’re tired, etc. Then ease back into things. Chilled salads keep better . . . and longer! (LOL!)
Glad to read that Jane is doing well after her ordeal.
Were she a southern lady, Jane’s palpitations would call for a soothing medicinal cordial, such as Southern Comfort. At this point, it may be that CJ could use one too. Just a suggestion, you understand.
Yes, but y’all need a good hand-held fan (Asian will do nicely), possibly a Sunday bonnet, though an old-fashioned pioneer bonnet might do, a nice ottoman or papa-san chair to reline properly and elevate the feet, and so on. Style of attire is optional to taste. Y’all are modern Southern ladies, er, Northwestern ladies, after all.
I wouldn’t object to that drink “purely for medicinal purposes, of course.” Only I was raised with almost no drinking except on rare occasions, so I am a bad host and don’t keep things on hand. I know just about zero about any such things, mixed or straight-up neat.
But there are indeed occasions when a drink or two might be appreciable, salubrious, and oh, I think y’all’s recent ordeal could call for it, when Jane is OK to have a drink again. (I’d be in favor of a margarita, for instance. I’m mostly indifferent about drinks; the taste doesn’t do much for me and I want to be in control too much, I think. But there are times when something’s called for. If I knew more, I might occasionally do something. There are occasionally times when I would, and a difficult time like that would be one such.
I’d reiterate about ordering in some food rather than cooking, if y’all are tired or just don’t feel like it. As several others have said, please be good to yourselves, rest some, and enjoy. Great to write, since you both love writing, but also, please treat yourselves a little. We fans will not notice if you take a few days here and there for a needed break. You will surely make up for it when you feel all charged up again and more creative, refreshed. And as eager as we all might be to see those books — We all would sincerely much prefer you both feel happy, healthy, and safe, than the alternative. Er, hey, more stories can happen if y’all feel better long-term. Wearing yourselves out to a frazzle does not make us fans feel better and does not ultimately help the story quality.
I think several of us here would be happy to give y’all both a big hug, if we could. (Hugs are great, I miss getting to hug more.)
— I recently tried some “waffle breaded chicken strips” from Krogers. Didn’t know what to expect, but had to try them just to see. Huh. The breading is a bit waffle/pancake-ish, but the real point there is the male flavor added. There’s not much, if any, pepper to the spices in the breading, so y’all might need to kick that up a tiny bit. I’m still not sure what to make of them, but I can vouch for them for breakfast or brunch.
I also tried Krogers’ stir-fry coconut curry kit. This is veggies and a sauce pouch. Two or three tablespoons of oil, a wok or large/deep frying pan, a few minutes, and you’ve got it. For my taste, it has a little more caliente hot-spicy kick than I’d want for the veggies, but put this over some rice or noodles and have some protein on the side, and you’re quite good to go. I liked this and intend to get it again. — I did not check to see if there’s anything your diet or allergies would object to. As far as I know, there weren’t any onions in this one, either in the chopped veggies or in the sauce pouch.
They have others with a more guaranteed spice kick, if you’d rather. (It helps if you say “gait-awn-teed!” the way old Justin Wilson used to. I caught a YouTube clip of one of his shows from back in the day recently. Oh man, what a character. Corny jokes at the end and all.)
—–
The new junior adolescent feline is still without his ineffable, inestimable name, which remains a mystery he’s guarding and I’m not guessing well enough yet. Really, I’ve never gone this long without a cat getting his/her name. However, the little so-and-so is doing quite well and is very pleased with himself about the whole affair. 😀 (Mon, dis iz da lyfe! igh` iz livin it!”) Goober seems to have decided that the little character is going to stay, so he is no longer quite so dubious or jealous. Not quite. Maybe. OK, still working on that. The kitty still has issues with good indoor housecoat manners, regarding claws in, thank you much, but this is, to his credit, because he wants to _play_ and _get_ _attention_, not from any desire to be mean (at least not to the human, who is big and kinda still a bit scary, maybe, yet getting more trustworthy). He doesn’t want to hassle Goober except to possibly steal his food, or again, be a bit grabby and overzealous and claws-out when wanting to play. — As far as I know, Goober and the new kitty have not played together or groomed each other yet, but they also are willing to be within a foot of each other or share the bed a few times, with no one wanting to fuss, yell, or swipe at each other. (Except when surprising each other at my keyboard, once so far.)
—–
However, I had to clean up a mess early this morning. Goober had an accident in and out of the litterbox. Whew. Serious, at that. But nothing further, and he seems OK. So the vet checkup is a doubly good idea. I want to be sure he and the new kitty aren’t swapping malicious microlife or bigger unwanted passengers.
So therefore, once it was daylight, I mopped the bathroom to a fair-thee-well. In part, because I missed some cat litter in a corner or other spot, when I swept, so…ick, a mess when I mopped, created stray grit and a hint of a clay slurry. — Mopped and rinsed several times, Cloroxed, since I was concerned about the cats, and since, hey, I use that bathroom too, and shower besides. — So it is now fit to live in again. — I am not yet back to weekly, but sneaking up on it faster now. With two cats again, this will need to become weekly in self-defense, at least. — So it’s getting back closer to former good habits.
The cat toys, instead of arriving in one order as ordered, are set to arrive over a few days, and the monthly order of cat food and cat litter should arrive before Labor Day.
The new kitty will get a tag to go with a new collar, as soon as his name materializes. I keep trying things. He has no idea, as far as I can tell, of responding to a name or to coming when called. More likely, his idea is, run and hide, unless the hewmon is friendly and has food. (But this little guy wants to be friendly and is making quick progress, except for key points.)
Currently still trying out Cypers/Cyprus, Curry, Rufus (Roof-Us), and Rudyard. I also tried Bronze and Tiger. Huh, well, nothing seems to fit solidly yet. — I got frustrated this morning and tried Rumplestiltskin, Atreyu, and Falcor, just, you know, in case. 😆 Nope, no luck. He does not seem to be an enchanted faerie or such, or a luck dragon, or a hobbitses or house-elf. (I probably would not have minded. Probably.)
Oh, I had all kinds of good ideas of keeping them separate, quarantined. Which went right out the door the moment the new kitty stepped in and Goober was there in the mix. There is surely a lesson in there about first contact situations being more messy in real life than in the textbook scenarios. 😉 So right away, anything airborne, yeah.
Anyway, I am hopeful the new guy and my trusty old gentleman cat will both do fine with their checkups, planned for Tuesday. I’m anticipating the new kitty needing to stay for one or two nights for, ah, deworming, because I don’t want to have to deal with that in a rented apartment, y’know, and would prefer the vet deal with it, since he/she is trained for that. I have seen no evidence of a problem, but as this little guy has spent all his life as a stray around these apartments, dumpsters and all, well, I know he could have anything going on. He appears very healthy, except still having loose stools, copious, and he has what I think is a mole or wart near where his right clavicle would be, right near where his shoulder and neck meet. Otherwise, he looks healthy. But I know to be careful and see what the vet says from tests. The vaccinations and future neutering will happen as soon as possible.
Still getting used to each other. He and Goober are doing OK but not yet truly friends. I am hoping they may do better than Goober and Smokey did.
so, that’s the cat news for the day, unless something more spectacular happens.
(I tried Bronzy as a name also, but it didn’t seem to click.) (Darn, kitty, is it me or is it you? You are proving hard to guess your name, little guy.)
Heh. No alcohol for the first 24 hours, but she has indeed had a glass of wine last night.
“And now for something completely different” 😉
One of the traditional criticisms of SciFi stories, such as herself’s, is the frequency habitable planets turn up. But it wasn’t until “recently” that exoplanets were confirmed. You may have recently seen, Penn State profs studied Kepler data looking for planets of .75-1.5 Earth masses in the “habitable zone” of sun-like stars. Their results suggest most likely 1 in 6, 16%, with a limiting range of 1 in 33 to 1 in 2! That’s mind blowing, and vindication for authors such as herself!
But wait! “Sun-like stars”, errm, what does that mean? About 76% of Milky Way stars are red dwarfs. Only about 8% are class G like the Sun, another 12% if we include cooler class K. Even so, there’s quite a range of luminosities in that 20%. Perhaps we should conservatively estimate 5-10% of stars “we” would want to live around (no pun intended, but “you takes ’em as you gets ’em”) and then the gravity of a 1.5 Earth-mass planet? Ugh! Maybe fit for Neanderthals but not us, I think. 🙁
So, when it comes to “really” Earth-like, let’s think more along the lines of 1 in 60 stars, then 1 in 5 of those with a “comfortable” gravity. (Tsiolkovsky’s equations would show it’s not “just an engineering problem” building a rocket ship that could get off one of those worlds!) Still, in magnitude, that’s one heck of a lot of stars! 😉
This is where you pull out “Planets for Man”, which is about the limits of human habitability, and run numbers. (It’s by Asimov and Dole, based on Doles “Habitable Planets for Man”.)
I saw something on that thanks to Hank Green on a Sci-Show video on YouTube, and possibly something from Anton Petrov’s channel, within the last week.
They were saying there’s been some academic criticism, quibbling over how those conclusions were reached, but that it’s still very encouraging, and further studies should show how common this really is.
I think they’d reported something like one in every 33 stars might have a planet “close enough” to Earth’s parameters, maybe habitable. — But really, 1 in 33 stars in a cubic volume of space, that’s still good odds. I’d found something showing stars in the nearest 20, 50, and so on light years, ranging from something like 108 or so to several thousand, I think it was, within 50 light years of Earth. — So that would be something like 3 in the spherical shell 20 light years from Earth, and still a few thousand within 50 or so lightyears.
Those would be really good odds, if so. But say it’s 1 in 60. That’s still good odds, roughly half of the 1 in 33 number.
Two things: One, how habitable is habitable? There have been negatives with every exoplanetry system so far, for various reasons, but some might be habitable. Two, if they are habitable, there’s a good chance some alien biology is already living there, and then the question is, can we live with that, and are any of those intelligent?
Given recent world news, one might be moved to question if there’s any intelligent life here on Earth, but never mind being too cynical for now.
Even if it’s 1 in every 100 stars, that’s still pretty good odds, within say 50 to 100 lightyears of Earth.
From what they’re finding, the habitable zones may be a lot more varied than we had thought, besides, and life might be fairly common in many such worlds. Some kind of life; intelligent life, some smaller fraction thereof.
But OK, that’s still very good odds compared to what people had thought before. Fine, dust off the welcome mat or get those Alcubierre-White warp drive ships going. (If only we could find a way to make it work reasonably, without the major problems they still have to solve to make something that might really be workable for interstellar travel.)
Seems like the chances are far better than we had thought.