The Beviad–musings, mutterings and myths

Yes, today it’s only 14 degrees, and pouring rain so hard that you’d think we had started monsoon season. The house is cold, since the temperature went down to 11 degrees last night. John lit a fire in the fireplace and I have been dozing and reading in front of it all afternoon, which is one of the reasons that I like autumn: I don’t feel guilty about not going outside.

Also, of course, I love the colors of autumn, which have yet to appear. But I found a perfectly autumnal leaf on the ground in Knowlton, which we visited on Thursday when we went there to see a play at the Arts Knowlton theatre. We saw ‘Dial M for Murder’, which was very well done, and had lunch before hand at the Knowlton pub (I had a duck burger, which was delicious even if it didn’t taste much like duck, which I love and which no one in my family loves.)

Last night Devon slept over, and she and I watched ‘The King and I’, or rather, watched half of it. She loved it, especially since it didn’t have any scary bits. I had to convince her ahead of time that musicals didn’t have scary bits–just singing and dancing. In between songs, at her request, I put the DVD on pause, and we discussed slavery, which if you recall is a big aspect of the film’s story. She of course had never heard of it before.She pointed out that Cinderella is treated like a slave by her stepmother and stepsister.

That got us into a discussion this morning, in bed, about princesses (her current passion). Disney princesses, of course, which Paze has turned into role models, figuring (quite rightly) that if she is going to be passionate about them, they might as well serve as exemplum. Whenever Devon starts to whine, Paze asks her “How would Cinderella feel about this? Would she whine?” And of course, Cinderella wouldn’t, since she even sings to herself sweetly while cleaning and serving the very people who are tormenting her, with nary a whine or complaint.

Devon said that Princesses go to Princess School, where they learn very important things, such as: how to be kind to others; how to use their brains to think; how to be polite; how to share things with others; how to avoid whining; how to love. I suspect Paze had a hand in this list, too, but can see no fault in it. After all, it helps dispell the feeling that envying princesses could make Devon the kind of girl that as an adult is called a princess unflatteringly.

Still, she is fascinated with clothing, playing with the princess dolls in books with this generation’s version of paper dolls. (These have plastic clothes that stick on the doll figures.) She can play with these for hours and did so all the way to Cape Breton Island and back again this summer. She also refuses to wear jeans or shorts, and I’ve seen her when her dad comes to pick her up from our house with a change of clothes. If he brings a pair of jeans, she’ll sigh and give him a withering glance, and try to persuade him that she’s better off in her dress or skirt. Last time this happened, she said, in a withering tone that I’m sure she got from Paze, “I don’t think that Cinderella wore jeans, did she? She wore a skirt. Even when she was cleaning the house.” She then pointed out that in jeans one couldn’t whirl around and have your skirt puff out around you–a major point, it seems, in her choice of wardrobe.

I have to agree with her. Skirts are very nice, and in hot weather they are much cooler than shorts, especially in the crotch area. And there is that business about them twirling about when you turn. I’ve worn them all my life and only recently have decided that pants hide a multitude of sins, and that if I have to wear ugly orthopedic shoes, I might as well wear what my generation call ’slacks’. Lately, that’s all I’ve been wearing, in fact, after buying a brown pair and a black pair at Winners. And this has all coincided with the drop in temperatures. So, this will, I think, be my slacks period. Now, if I could just keep Oreo, my black and white cat, from shedding all over my pants every time he insists on curling up on my lap, even when I’m working on the computer….

Now, off to roast a chicken and some potatoes. That should warm the kitchen up.,.