The Beauty Sense

The Beauty Sense adds so much to the joy of life that it is not easy to see what danger attends it. But, perhaps, Exclusiveness is the Daemon that waits on a too keen sense of the joy of Beauty, whether in music, painting, one's own surroundings, or even in natural scenery. Exclusiveness gets the ear of the Prime Minister and convinces him that nothing else is necessary to complete the happiness of life. In vain does Intellect invite to new fields of research; in vain does good and necessary work present itself; in vain are duties clamorous. The person who is given up to the intoxication of beauty concieves that Beauty and Goodness are one and the same, and that Duty is no more than seeking one's own pleasure in ways one best likes. People, too, become excluded.
Instead of accepting the relations, friends, and neighbours that God sends us in the course of our lives, the devotee of Beauty chooses for himself, and cares to know only those people whose views of life are the same as his own. So with regard to places, he cannot tolerate for a moment things which are unsightly and unlovely, so does he not go where working people and poor people have to live. In the end, he misses the happiness to which the Beauty Sense was meant to minister. For happiness comes of effort, service, wide interests, and, last and least, of enjoyment; and when people put enjoyment, even of beautiful things, in the first place(and indeed in place of all else), they miss the very thing they seek, and become enfeebled in body and fretful and discontent in temper.
But we need not let fear of evil keep us out of that paradise of pleasure which the Beauty Sense is meant to open for us all. Of two things we must take heed. In the first place, we must not lat any better-than- my-neighbor notions get into our heads; and in the next, we must make it out business, as much as in our lies, to bring Beauty to places where it is not. Bearing these two cautions in mind, the Daemon of Exclusiveness need have no terror in us.
- Charlotte Mason in Ourselves

To break a door down....use your foot(not you shoulderor body) and kick at the point where the lock is mounted.
To find water on a deserted island...look for bird droppings.
To fool a lie detector test...breath faster than normal on the pretest and bite your tongue. Do not anticipate questions, sit completely still except for one subtle, regular movement. Maintain eye contact and display confidence while thinking relaxing thoughts.
To survive quicksand, put a pole under your hips and then slowly pull out one leg at a time.

Why are beggars despised? — for they are despised, universally. I believe it is for the simple reason that they fail to earn a decent living. In practice nobody cares whether work is useful or useless, productive or parasitic; the sole thing demanded is that it shall be profitable. In all the modern talk about energy, efficiency, social service and the rest of it, what meaning is there except ‘Get money, get it legally, and get a lot of it’? Money has become the grand test of virtue. By this test beggars fail, and for this they are despised. If one could earn even ten pounds a week at begging, it would become a respectable profession immediately. A beggar, looked at realistically, is simply a businessman, getting his living, like other businessmen, in the way that comes to hand. He has not, more than most modern people, sold his honour; he has merely made the mistake of choosing a trade at which it is impossible to grow rich.
Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell

Ziploc Bag

Yesterday, Jen found a note on her truck. But this was no ordinary note from an ordinary person. Some neighbor had taken the time to type out a nastigram on his/her computer, print it out, place it in a large ziploc bag, and put it under the truck windshield wiper. He/She was angry that the truck was parked in front of his/her house and guests could not park there(public parking and all). Anyways I found this incident blogworthy for no particular reason other than we have a nice big ziploc bag now. I can think of all kinds of uses for that.

Lost

I can drive the rural backroads of SC back into the depths of the South where rebel flags fly freely and the road signs are on the wrong side of the post and yet I do not get lost. Then I come back to the big city and go for a 10 minute walk in the evening but proceed to get myself lost for an hour on the "backroads" of this fine southern neighborhood. I estimate I walked 2 miles trying to find my way home. I was tired...needed a post to lean on. But I was afraid my landlord might see me.

The Adventure Continues....

Cardate Sunday 16:20 - Beka stops near Danville to fill up on gas. Beka locks keys in car. Beka tries all her old tricks to try to break in and then going to extreme measures of calling for help. Beka works for an hour trying to get her keys while waiting on help, forming blisters on her now soft office hands. Finally a man in a van offers his assitance and unlocks the car in minutes. He tells me to spread the kindness as in the country song. Can't remember the name of this song, but it is about a man stopping to help a woman change her tire and how the kindness is spread from there. Well....I think he may have jinxed Beka.
Cardate Sunday 17:20 - Good ole Honda goes lame. Beka pulls out jack, spare tire, and tools and starts to set up jack. More help was on its way...a motorcycle pulls off to help Beka (even the rider helped out) .
Cardate Sunday 18:00 - After the tired is changed Beka goes on her way to Greensboro NC to find a place to get a new tire as the old one is shot. Everything is closed. Finally finds a auto parts store that is open but they have no tires. One man calls other stores while another gets his buddy to run home and see if they have a spare. Six different men were helping Beka out....well at least trying to. This day I was glad for kind people. But even with their attempts nothing could be found.
Cardate Sunday 20:00 - Beka gets a hotel room and waits the night out to get a new tire in the morn. Beka acted as if she was a tired traveler with a lame ride, staying at an inn for a night....oh wait...she was!