Can We Talk While I Make Soup?

Dear Friend, 

A couple weeks ago I stood in the produce section of the grocery store with cotton balls in my throbbing ears. 

What meals will I make?  I scanned the room, then meandered over to the organic section and began to analyze the offerings. 

Soup. Just soup until I feel like eating something else!

I selected ingredients for five batches of my current favorites: Borscht, Seafood Chowder, Bean with Bacon, Beef and Barley, and Thai Chicken with Rice.

I love the entire soup-making process. You could say it's my thing. I usually listen to an audio book while I chop vegetables. Sometimes I let my little ones help me with the peeling. 

Borscht 

Last time I wrote a post I believe I promised you an update on my ear issue -- I'm feeling much better and I can hear! I honestly didn't mind having the volume turned down a bit for a little while, but the ear infection was pesky, painful and persistent. I had to go to the doctor five times! I'm grateful to have that behind me.

A couple of my friends are on my heart right now  -- Heidi lost her eleven year old son recently; Tracey has Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome and is fighting for her life in ICU. Now and then as I'm going about my normal daily tasks, I suddenly feel a jab of sorrow and pray: God, help my friends! 

Seafood Chowder

I finished the House of Mirth by Edith Wharton a few days ago. I was relieved to be done with it. I found the main character, Lily Bart, nearly as exasperating as Flaubert's Madame Bovary. If anything moved me about the book it was Lily's vision on her deathbed of an infant sleeping beside her. All five of my babies slept with me until they were weaned. Nothing I've experienced in life has been sweeter. In fact, most of what I understand about God and love and worship came to me while nursing my little ones during those quiet night hours.

Bean with Bacon

I once saw Edith Wharton's signature in the guest book at Biltmore House.  That's the only thing I knew about Wharton until I read her book. 

Something else has been on my mind, something hard for me to spit out. Maybe I'll just bury it here in this unassuming post until I know how to say more . . .

I've recently come to the startling realization that for most of my formative years I was influenced by a cult leader.

This information feels both painful and liberating. It's taking me some time to sort things out.

I used to be so sure about every facet of life: what I should and should not wear, listen to, say, believe, be, do. Looking back I can see that gradually through the years I've shed many things -- like a reptile shedding scales. Some ideas have dropped off almost without my notice, others have been painfully removed, as if a scale has been ripped out leaving a raw bleeding spot in its place.

Up until recent news made me face the full reality, I viewed the cult leader as a distant grandfather figure -- someone I didn't agree with on every point, but someone safe and well-meaning -- certainly not what he was. Like many people, I didn't see the obvious. 

Beef and Barley

My Mimi was right about the cult leader's way of life when she said, "It's not for everybody."

Now I'd even go so far to say it's not for anybody!

I keep having this sensation like I'm skydiving. It's both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

"The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don't know." 

~Albert Einstein 

Thai Chicken with Rice

Ann Voskamp's blog has been helping me a lot lately.

This post by Keri Wyatt Kent has also helped. I love the line she has said to her kids through the years: "I love the person you are becoming." I've made a point of saying that to each of my kids lately. It's good for them and cathartic for me. I don't have to be afraid; I don't have to micromanage your soul. I love the person you are becoming!

These words imply that the future is bright—that I have great hope that they will grow into themselves. It says: you haven’t arrived yet, but I’m trusting the process. It reminds them that they are growing up and they are not you—that crucial process of differentiation that is essential for maturity. It also tells them that they don’t have to be just like mom or dad, or just like their older sibling. It simply says, You are becoming your own person, and that’s a good thing. It’s a way of telling them, “I believe in you!” without sounding quite so cheesy. I think it’s a phrase that instills confidence. And makes me feel more confident as a parent–even when it’s hard to let go.

Well now, I've got a lot off my chest today, haven't I!

Thanks for being there to help me process stuff. 

Love,

Adriana 

Madame Bovary: What If? (A Guest Post)

A couple months ago I read Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert. Since it was my first example of Realism in fiction, I felt I had entered into a closer relationship with the characters than I had experienced with previous novels from the WEM list.  I watched with angst as Emma Bovary wrecked herself through the folly of her selfish decisions. 

Flaubert painted his controversial novel objectively -- with equal doses of both ethereal landscape descriptions and earthy characterization. He gave no moral judgments; I was left to examine the themes for myself, to strain each tragic scenario through my own sieve. I think it's pretty much impossible to close the book on Madame Bovary and not wonder -- at least for a moment -- "What if?"

Several weeks ago, my friend Sandy Bramhill sent me an email which contained her response to Madame Bovary. She has generously agreed to let me use it as the first guest post on Classical Quest. The images of paintings by Mary Cassatt and Claude Monet can also be found on my new Pinterest boards.
What if….

by Sandy Bramhill

...Emma's mother had lived to raise her? She had a loving father, but what if she had experienced the love of a mama as well? What if she had witnessed a healthy, loving marriage when she was growing up?

 

...the old woman who came by the convent from time to time had not loaned Emma romance novels? What if Emma had read good literature? What if the heroines of her books had been examples of faithfulness?

 

…Emma had been taught the Word of God rather than being raised with only the mystical and emotional aspects of religion? What if she had read the Bible for herself?

 

…when Emma tried to share her deep inner struggles with the priest, he had actually listened to what she was saying?  What if he had given her good counsel?

Rouen Cathedral, by Claude Monet -- depicted in a scene in Madame Bovary.

…Emma had had a group of female friends?  Or even one true, faithful female friend?

 

…Emma had had to work? What if she didn’t have the luxury of sitting around fantasizing and wallowing in her discontentment?  Would keeping busy have staved off some of the self-pity?  (The elder Madame Bovary thought so.)

 

…had had a son?  Would she actually have taken to being a mother? (I certainly don’t think so – boys spit up, too! But Emma may have thought so.)

 

…women in her time nursed their own babies instead of sending them away? Would Emma have bonded with Berthe and found meaning in motherhood?

Images Courtesy Wikipaintings

...[Emma] was not happy, and never had been. Why was life so unsatisfying? Why did everything she leaned on instantly crumble into dust? […] nothing was worth seeking – everything was a lie! Each smile hid a yawn of boredom, each joy a curse, each pleasure its own disgust; and the sweetest kisses only left on one’s lips a hopeless longing for a higher ecstasy. (III.6.29-30)

Sandy lives with her husband and two teenage sons in Tucson, AZ.  She loves reading, cycling, and befriending people from other countries.  She discovered Classical Quest through  "The Book That Changed My Life" post.  Soon after, she joined me and the ladies at A Classic Case of Madness on our journey through the classics.