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Infectious Madness by Harriet Washington
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 670388" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/Graemlins/rofl.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":rofl:" title="rofl :rofl:" data-shortname=":rofl:" /></p><p></p><p>Ha! It means Dear Husband. Back in the day when we called our troubled kids Gifts From God (difficult child) we called our husbands D H. We cannot put the letters together anymore without spaces, or the initials are changed into "husband" or "difficult child". </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>My D H and I are different in every way. I would never have been able to be friends with my D H. He draws me, fascinates me, and he always did. I feel like a baby duck, sometimes, imprinted on my D H.</p><p></p><p>Seriously.</p><p></p><p>Quack.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>I have never eaten in Hawaii.</p><p></p><p>So, do you know the taste of "umami"? It is MSG. It comes from seaweed. Recently, it was designated the fifth flavor. (Sweet, sour, salt, bitter (?) and...umami. It enhances whatever food it is used to season. It seems to have no taste of its own, but to dramatically deepen the taste of whatever we use it with.</p><p></p><p>I would love to hear more about your style of cooking, Leafy. I would like to know what is your favorite dish. I would like to know, if it would not be too presumptuous, what people in the culture where you live eat for breakfast. </p><p></p><p>What do you snack on?</p><p></p><p>Do you drink coffee, or tea?</p><p></p><p>How extraordinary, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>I read James Michener's <u>Hawaii</u>. I remember that the hugeness of the queen was a status symbol, and I remember how much she loved the small man who was her consort. And poi. And typhoon, and the legend of how the Hawaiian Islands had come to be settled by small group traveling in canoes hewed from the centers of trees. And the sharks, seen as gods.</p><p></p><p>And the missionaries, forever angry and so rigid and ungenerous. </p><p></p><p>And was that the novel where the Oriental mother named her children after the continents? Asia, Australia...I don't remember the others. I think there were five children.</p><p></p><p>Have you lived there for a very long time, Leafy?</p><p></p><p>I think Hawaii would be a lovely place to live. I once knew someone who loved it there so much that he just up and moved there, to Molokoi, where there once was a colony for lepers.</p><p></p><p>This is so much fun to think about, Leafy. No wonder your sister was such a biatch. She was probably <em>so</em> green with envy.</p><p></p><p>Good.</p><p></p><p>She should be.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>This is entirely fascinating, to me. Copa lived in Brazil for a time. I love to hear her stories, too. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I wholeheartedly agree with your contention that we learned to love through our D H. For me, I would add that we learned the surprise, and the no option but love that loving means, through falling in love with our children. It has always been so easy for me to walk away. </p><p></p><p>I could not walk away, could not stop loving, could not be invulnerable, to my children. I just could not; not in any smallest thing. I had a horrible time with detachment theory. But then, I realized I was not loving my kids into strength. To the contrary, what I was teaching them was that if the story was bad enough, I would pay.</p><p></p><p>It is a fearsome thing, to love someone that way.</p><p></p><p>That is why I love the song Halleluiah, especially as kd lang sings it. Love is so surprising a thing, so painful a thing. Copa writes about falling in love with her child too, and about loving the intensity of it and being caught in the horror of it, sometimes.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Oh, wow. I have this huge longing for family dinner. How I would love to participate in your dinner. I agree with all my heart that it is the love that goes into the preparation that matters, and the anticipation, and the stories that run the generations.</p><p></p><p>You are fortunate in this, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>I am happy for you. </p><p></p><p>When my oldest two grands were little, we had a Story Rock. We still have it. The girls and I went out and found and chose it. It has lots of sparkly mica in it. We told so many stories holding that Story Rock! When they were still very little, I told them the mica was the magic of the stories we told while we were holding the Story Rock. Even D H mom told stories when the family was come together. It was so much fun. One of the best things ever, that Story Rock.</p><p></p><p>Only the person holding the rock was allowed to speak.</p><p></p><p>It was so much fun.</p><p></p><p>Ha! What a lovely series of memories you've awakened, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 670388, member: 17461"] :rofl: Ha! It means Dear Husband. Back in the day when we called our troubled kids Gifts From God (difficult child) we called our husbands D H. We cannot put the letters together anymore without spaces, or the initials are changed into "husband" or "difficult child". My D H and I are different in every way. I would never have been able to be friends with my D H. He draws me, fascinates me, and he always did. I feel like a baby duck, sometimes, imprinted on my D H. Seriously. Quack. *** I have never eaten in Hawaii. So, do you know the taste of "umami"? It is MSG. It comes from seaweed. Recently, it was designated the fifth flavor. (Sweet, sour, salt, bitter (?) and...umami. It enhances whatever food it is used to season. It seems to have no taste of its own, but to dramatically deepen the taste of whatever we use it with. I would love to hear more about your style of cooking, Leafy. I would like to know what is your favorite dish. I would like to know, if it would not be too presumptuous, what people in the culture where you live eat for breakfast. What do you snack on? Do you drink coffee, or tea? How extraordinary, Leafy. I read James Michener's [U]Hawaii[/U]. I remember that the hugeness of the queen was a status symbol, and I remember how much she loved the small man who was her consort. And poi. And typhoon, and the legend of how the Hawaiian Islands had come to be settled by small group traveling in canoes hewed from the centers of trees. And the sharks, seen as gods. And the missionaries, forever angry and so rigid and ungenerous. And was that the novel where the Oriental mother named her children after the continents? Asia, Australia...I don't remember the others. I think there were five children. Have you lived there for a very long time, Leafy? I think Hawaii would be a lovely place to live. I once knew someone who loved it there so much that he just up and moved there, to Molokoi, where there once was a colony for lepers. This is so much fun to think about, Leafy. No wonder your sister was such a biatch. She was probably [I]so[/I] green with envy. Good. She should be. :O) This is entirely fascinating, to me. Copa lived in Brazil for a time. I love to hear her stories, too. *** I wholeheartedly agree with your contention that we learned to love through our D H. For me, I would add that we learned the surprise, and the no option but love that loving means, through falling in love with our children. It has always been so easy for me to walk away. I could not walk away, could not stop loving, could not be invulnerable, to my children. I just could not; not in any smallest thing. I had a horrible time with detachment theory. But then, I realized I was not loving my kids into strength. To the contrary, what I was teaching them was that if the story was bad enough, I would pay. It is a fearsome thing, to love someone that way. That is why I love the song Halleluiah, especially as kd lang sings it. Love is so surprising a thing, so painful a thing. Copa writes about falling in love with her child too, and about loving the intensity of it and being caught in the horror of it, sometimes. Oh, wow. I have this huge longing for family dinner. How I would love to participate in your dinner. I agree with all my heart that it is the love that goes into the preparation that matters, and the anticipation, and the stories that run the generations. You are fortunate in this, Leafy. I am happy for you. When my oldest two grands were little, we had a Story Rock. We still have it. The girls and I went out and found and chose it. It has lots of sparkly mica in it. We told so many stories holding that Story Rock! When they were still very little, I told them the mica was the magic of the stories we told while we were holding the Story Rock. Even D H mom told stories when the family was come together. It was so much fun. One of the best things ever, that Story Rock. Only the person holding the rock was allowed to speak. It was so much fun. Ha! What a lovely series of memories you've awakened, Leafy. :O) Cedar [/QUOTE]
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