Beddy White's Party

Children amaze and amuse us in so many ways.  They can do things we can only envy from afar.  One such talent is their magnificent ability to fall asleep, instantly, anywhere, midst any occasion.  I have seen them drift away in a car seat, on a couch, on a table, in a high chair, on a shoulder, on a lap, on the floor (sounds like a take off on “Green Eggs and Ham”), and, of all places, a Pack ‘N Play, a crib, or even a bed - go figure that. 

And their sleep is so … deep.  The final 15 minutes of the 1812 Overture could be playing 10ft. from their little ears and they would not stir a limb, or scrunch a face.  Little do they know that they will soon outgrow this blessed gift and not possess the ability again until they are well into life.  But that’s another story.

So, what has this to do with a blog post.  Well, I got to thinking, as I am wont to do at times, about all the funny little daily “habits” we humans engage in.  It is my belief that if we could shadow someone for a full 24 hour day, we would see them doing things that would curl our toes.  The behavior patterns witnessed we would call everything from crazy to bizarre to odd to weird to just plain silly. And yet for the person being observed, what they do is all perfectly normal and chock full of common sense.  Because, of course, everything  “we” do fits us to a “T.”  Thank you very much.

Take sleep, for instance. Once our little childhood is behind us and we are “big people,” we acquire certain fiercely followed routines that accompany our night’s slumber.  How on earth did we get them?  Where did they come from? Why do we do what we do?  And do you ever wonder if other people do this too, or are you the only one?

In keeping with the precedent set down in my post titled “Two a Day” (June 2012), I now offer you some of my little bedtime habits.  I always sleep with the window open.  Even at 20 below, fresh air must find its way in thru a millimeter wide slot.  Warmer weather, then wider open the window goes.  Summertime?  Why, wide open the whole time, of course. A bedroom lacking fresh air is a stuffy bedroom.  A stuffy bedroom smells.  Just ask any kid.  And that’s that.

Window blinds, shades, curtains, etc. need not apply for work in my bedroom. I know people who completely seal up their bedroom at night….door shut, every window completely covered, leaving them to while away the night in absolute blackness.   OMG, how could anyone do that, I wonder in shocked disbelief?  Being a touch claustrophobic, I would feel like Injun Joe trapped in Tom’s cave.  And you know what happened to him.

Even though my sleep is restful and deep, I must sense that the wind, the stars, the rain, and the snow, are right outside.  I must know the lingering moon ever so slowly traverses my window.  I have to be connected to the world, even in my slumber.  And besides, every morning, my window bequeaths to me, free, nature’s alarm clock. What a start to the day!

  

Bedrooms must be of a nice, soothing color.  I think it’s been proven more times than the Pythagorean theorem that certain colors are “restful” and conducive to imparting the slumber mood to the weary would be snorer.  Yet, some people, I’m sure, think that a bright red wall would be just the accent needed for a well attired sleep chamber (think Coneheads).  Sure, for a matador, maybe. 

I have never seen the need for a television either.  Anything, and I mean anything, I have ever read or heard about good sleep habits screams – no television in the bedroom.  And yet I feel strangely open to the idea that I would like one.  But not yet.  For now, I read before lights out.  That sets me up for dreamland just fine.

As to the other stuff….what people wear to bed, what they put on their nightstand (I know someone who religiously places a full glass of water on their night stand every night, yet never takes a sip), how the room is decorated (think pictures, wall accents, lamps, furniture, etc.), well, we won’t go there, at least not in this post!

So, there you have it.  In addition to my shower rituals, you now have a glimpse into my bedroom. And thru this little blog, I can now share that with the world. Too much information for your senses?  Well, too bad.  I find what people do in their little world a fascinating topic, and ponder that part of our humanness often.  And this is an “Eclectic” Fence Post, is it not ... to write about anything that strikes my fancy.  Well, this struck. And, I assure you, it will strike again!

Just enjoy it, and you may want to think to yourself ….. do you have weird sleep habits?  What would other people think of your little rituals?  I’d bet you’d be surprised.  You’re not as normal as you think!

And on that note, have a great 2013….Happy New Year, whatever your little oddities are.

Mark Twain Quote: “Well enough for old folks to rise early, because they have done so many mean things all their lives they can’t sleep anyhow.”

Oh When The Saints.....

Coming from a family largely Irish by trade, I was born both a Roman Catholic and a Democrat. I was not consulted. My parents gave me absolutely no say in the matter.  And thru such circumstance, much of life is channeled at birth.

I attended public elementary school, but for reasons that now rest with them, my parents shuffled me off to a Catholic high school.  At least the name of the school had the word “Academy” attached to it, which I suppose gave it some kind of real or imagined predominance and status.

Thus, I spent arguably the four most pivotal years of my life in the embrace of the Sisters of St. Joseph. Those good nuns used the time honored methods of the day in their dispensing of knowledge to our eager, yet wandering minds…the clicker, the ruler, and the rote.

I was deathly afraid of those black and whites, and attempted to fly way under the radar during my time there.  But early on, one of the first things that caused me to sit straight up and take notice was the “nine first Fridays” perk (as I saw it) of my faith. My interpretation of this short cut to heaven was:  if I made the nine first Fridays, my salvation would be assured. My future status of  “toes up” would become the only requirement for punching my ticket on the express to Heaven. No fool from Liverpool, I immediately made this goal my first priority.  Saved, no matter what else I did in life.  Now that was a load off. I contentedly awaited my future.

But I digress.  Among many other things, we also learned about saints. You know,  saint – a person formally recognized or canonized by the Church after death, who may be the object of veneration and prayers for intercession.  Saints, we were told, were very powerful, capable of extraordinary deeds.

There is, as I vaguely remember, more than one way to achieve “sainthood.”  Martyrdom (dying for the faith) brings instant salvation.   No surer way to fast track oneself to everlasting bliss, although the act required could be a tad painful and prolonged. Personally, I would not recommend this road.

The road most of us are familiar with is: miracles.  If a saint-to-be can be shown to have performed 2 (I believe), miracles, then they were, as a nun once told me, “as good as in.”  These miracles usually take the form of curing people of  terminal illness or a fatal medical condition, where it can conclusively be shown that there was no medical or rational basis for the cure, save the intervention by the saint-to-be.  And how to approach the saint-to-be, or saint?  Prayer. 

In most cases, prayers are simply directed to saints in general.  In some cases, one prays to a particular saint, as they all have a specialty. Tooth problem?  St. Antipas.  Your cat need help?  St. Gertrude of Nivelles can purr for you.  A tinge of VD got you depressed, then St. Fiacre is your go to guy.  Aspiring comedian?  St. Vitus awaits your prayers.  Afraid of wasps?  St. Friard can ward them off. Fledgling poet with writer’s block?  Look to St. David for inspiration. A bout of dysentery got you feeling low? Dial up St. Lucy of Syracuse. Even beggars have a protector in St. Alexius.  I am not making this up folks! 

(…..To Be Continued)

Mark Twain Quote:  “I have never seen what to me seemed an atom of truth that there is a future life..and yet—I am strongly inclined to expect one.”