The Proposed Post Re: Dorothy Sayers' Books, What?

Of all the famous literary detectives, Lord Peter Wimsey is my favourite. In addition to wit and heroic courage, he is endowed with a singular talent for playing the fop. Somewhat akin to the Scarlet Pimpernel, Lord Peter cleverly hides his investigations under the guise of careless chatter. I cannot help but admire how he manipulates seemingly harmless conversations into providing exactly the information he wants. Of course, this also illuminates the genius of the author. Dorothy Sayers excelled in writing, and the creation of Lord Peter has put us in her debt forever. How anyone could come up with such marvelous characters, such detailed scenery, and such baffling mysteries, and then put all of that together in a book an intelligent person would actually want to read--well. It's beyond me.

On top of all of the above, she is so anchored to the Church that it seeps into her writings almost, it seems, accidently. I love that. She understands the Church, and it makes her stories more real to me than this world is that I'm living in. In that, she is merely following in the footsteps of the great authors of her time: Tolkien, Lewis, Chesterton, Belloc, MacDonald, Barfield, &tc. These are the great ones who inspire me to write.

Lord Peter inspires me to read. ;)

Nutrition

Coming under the heading of "housewifery training", I helped make peanut butter today. Yes, from real peanuts.
First we shelled them all, then we soaked them overnight in salt water. The soaking neutralises the phytic acid and the enzyme inhibitors so that our bodies can access all of the peanutty nutrients. Then we drained them (no rinsing!) and put them in a crock pot* on "keep warm" for a long time. Perhaps about 36 hours. We then mashed them up with a potato masher and ground them up the rest of the way with a blender.** Before we put the peanuts in the blender, we blended together about 1/2 c. coconut milk and 1/2 c. peanut oil. Then we added the peanuts one scoop at a time. They took about ten minutes to grind up. We added some honey, molasses, and a pinch or two of salt to flavour it. After the ten minutes were up, we had some very creamy real peanut butter! It is so tasty, and much better for us than that nasty stuff from the grocery store.

*The recipe calls for drying out in a low-temperature oven for about that long, but we use that oven for other things, so we figured we'd try the crock pot instead. It worked wonderfully.

**We dont have a food processor, or else we would have used that instead.

One of the things that bothers me

about the internet and blogs is that they seem to perpetuate the modern idea that everyone has something important to say to everyone else. That is, one tends to think that one has a copyright on whatever is one's favourite idea, and that it must needs be published for all to read, because, obviously, no one else could have thought such a thing. Even this paragraph that I am writing here has been thought of and written before. So, the question is, why do I write? Do I have good reason to?

This must primarily be for my own benefit, and the impact on others only a side-benefit, or else I should quit and let there be at least one person who doesn't fill the internet with their babble.

Since I'm questioning this decision to start a blog so much, I believe it would help me to look at this as passing a story or a writing around to acquaintances, instead of thinking of it as publishing a book for the whole world to read. There certainly isnt anything wrong with asking one's friends for a critique. There is, on the other hand, with subjecting the world to one's awful work; and also with passing round a diary that contains one's deepest thoughts.

I'm not looking to make an impact upon the world. I just want to be a better writer.

Poetry

is like meat and bread to me. Here is one of my favorite poems by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum: verumtamen justa loquar ad te: Quare via impiorum prosperatur? &c.

Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?

Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend,
How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost
Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust
Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,
Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes
Now leavèd how thick! lacèd they are again
With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes
Them; birds build -- but not I build; no, but strain,
Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.

For the purpose of

advancing my education, in particular my writing skills; I am employing this readily available medium, the internet, as my personal publisher. It is my intention to post book reviews, thoughts on Our Lord's world, and what these two subjects have to do with each other. Being my favorite topics, posts will likely be frequent. At this time, however, I have nothing further to say.

Comments are welcome.