Monday, August 02, 2021

 

I’m sorry to have left you in the lurch yesterday. I felt feeble – even more feeble than usual – on Saturday evening. Stomach trouble threatened but never actually arrived. Not much better yesterday – no walk. But I’m pretty well restored today. 2215 steps – the total has leapt up implausibly in the last few minutes, but overall would seem to match my day: I got around the garden, cooked lunch, have been padding about the house putting away a grocery delivery.

 

We’ve had another beautiful day, sunny with just the slightest, most delicious hint of cool. It sounds as if the rest of the UK is having a dreadful summer, but we’re doing fine here on the east coast of Scotland.

 

I really must get back to some knitting, if only to justify the name of the blog.

 

Comments

 

Thank you for them all, as always. I must track down Sayers on the Prodigal Son. I’m a great fan of hers, but I doubt if her take on that story will be mine – I sympathise with the elder brother. This is a parable, of course: the story was Jesus’ for the telling, and could have gone in any direction. It comes in a little bunch of parables about the lost being found: the shepherd who lost a sheep, the woman who lost a coin. So the elder brother needn’t have been there at all. I’d better go ahead and unload my thots on the subject for you tomorrow.

 

Shandy, thank you for the suggestion of “Trans” by Helen Joyce. I missed that one, in the Times. The Kindle edition is a wee bit on the expensive side, so I haven’t ordered it yet, but it’s on the list. I’m actually reading “Cristo si e’ fermato a Eboli” by Carlo Levi, which I think I read before, many years ago. As so often, in such cases, it feels completely unfamiliar.

6 comments:

  1. Inspired by you I have started walking a loop around our local roads, steadfastly walking past the two tempting shortcuts so far. It is 0.7 of a mile and takes me just over half an hour.
    I read 'Christ stopped at Eboli' last year. What a desperately impoverished place that part of Spain was. I can't imagine living in such abject conditions.
    Hope you recover from your 'feebleness'and find some energy; have you gota brew of kimchi on the go?

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  2. My mother always had a problem with the prodigal son parable, as well. I’ll have to track down Sayers.

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  3. A good friend of mine, a Dominican nun, also has a problem with the prodigal son.

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  4. =Tamar1:04 AM

    It suddenly turned relatively cool here. Checking my notes, it did the same for the last few years. For all the reputation of August as being hot, it seems to be a turning point toward fall.

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  5. Anonymous2:09 PM

    Sometimes I think the parables are just snapshots without any extenuating circumstances to produce a fair picture. Which may have been fine in Bliblical times but no longer is enough today. Mentally disturbed people didn't have pills and therapy to get them better. The lame didn't have PT and prosthetic limbs, and so on. Everything must have been so absolute back then. Chloe

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  6. =Tamar4:59 PM

    As I vaguely understand it, the Prodigal Son parable is the explanation for associating with sinners, tax gatherers, etc - to reclaim the lost ones.

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