1589 The woman credited with introducing haute cuisine to France, Catherine de Medici, wife of King Henry II of France dies. When she arrived in France from Italy she brought with her ice cream, the fork and had a strong influence on the development of sophisticated dining in France.
(She also had a fondness for roasted Huguenots)
“Want prompts a thousand crimes, you must admit. Why do men steal? why break burglariously into houses? why hold men and women captive and make slaves of them? Is it not from want? Nay, there are monarchs who at one fell swoop destroy whole houses, make wholesale massacre, and oftentimes reduce entire states to slavery, and all for the sake of wealth. These I must needs pity for the cruel malady which plagues them. Their condition, to my mind, resembles that poor creature’s who, in spite of all he has and all he eats, can never stay the wolf that gnaws his vitals.”
Socrates in “The Economist” by Xenophon.
Today’s news from Thailand:
The Bangkok Post recently reported that the chairman of commission to revise the Thai constitution announced that the new document will not deal with either Political or Military reform.
Although in my opinion this should result in a very short document, the chairman estimated that the commission will take at least three years to produce the first draft.
Some of you have enquired whether or not the dog in the photograph a few emails back was mine.
No, the dog I believe is Petey, the canine star in the “Our Gang” movies of the 1930-50’s who, following his illustrious career in cinema, retired to Thailand where at night he sits on the beach and stares at the surf.
Other’s of you have wondered why, in my most recent emails, I have wandered away from describing my wondrous adventures here in Thailand, writing fanciful tales instead.
The answer is that for the last few days I have suffered from an attack of ennui, a condition that makes one uninterested in doing anything different today than he did yesterday.
Yes, I know that is the normal condition of most people. But, I have always conducted my life like it was a rudderless boat blown about by any chance wind that may come about. Sometimes I land on a strange shore where I root about a bit until I foul my nest and move on. Other times I just drift aimlessly. Sometimes I feel as though I am floating through some great garbage dump in the ocean where the residue of past lives can be seen bobbing about.
It is interesting to compare the Great Pacific Garbage Dump with the Bermuda Triangle. In the Bermuda Triangle things go to disappear, it the Great Pacific Garbage Dump the past just floats up all around you.
For the past few weeks I have been bereft of even the hint of a breeze to fill my sails.
Pookie’s further adventures in Paradise:
Most day’s after breakfast I spend the mornings walking the 1000 paces that I read somewhere one should do as part of ones daily exercise. It seemed easy enough, so that is why I do it.
I usually try to walk barefoot in the sand on the beach. True, the gritty feel of the sand on my bare feet sets my teeth on edge and I am terrorized that I will inadvertently step on some sharp-edged detritus that will puncture my foot and cause pain, sickness and even death. Nevertheless, I believe walking on the sand allows me to exercise those small muscles in the foot and ankle upon which our ability to balance ourselves depends. Shoes, even those preceded by the word “athletic,” immobilize these muscles. So, I feel that if I am going to exercise anyway I should not ignore them.
This morning while on my way to the pharmacy to pick up my months supply of pills that prevent my prostate from expanding like a weather balloon, I passed by the skinny woman I wrote about in a previous email.
Although it is against my above mentioned philosophy to initiate contact of any kind, I had sort of hoped she would acknowledge me with a look or a nod that might be interpreted as that slight breeze in my sails, so to speak. But she took no notice of me.
On the way back I passed her again sitting on the sand. I was afraid that she might think I was stalking her and start screeching and embarrass me, but again I was ignored.
Today is my regular massage day so I happily avoided contemplating the winds of chance and settled for doing what I generally do on Fridays.
Yesterday I read Sheldon’s new novel “Perfect Alibi” in one sitting. For a story that has little of the kind of action one often sees in thrillers, (there are no shoot outs, no wild car chases, no terror and the like), Sheldon keeps the reader riveted to each page.
Today’s medical chart: