Archive for the History Category

What’s In A Name?

The US has some very strange place names.

Bad Axe, Michigan: “While surveying the first state road through the Huron County wilderness in 1861, Rudolph Papst and George Willis Pack made camp at the future site of the city and found a much-used and badly damaged axe.”

Climax, Minnesota: “The town briefly made national news in 2004 when school superintendent Shirley Moger refused to allow students to wear shirts bearing the town motto, “Climax – More than just a feeling”(..). The motto was picked following a contest. Some runner-ups in that contest were “No End to Climax,” “Cling to the Culmination: Climax Forever” and “Bring a Friend to Climax.”

Cylinder, Iowa: “One story suggests that the name comes from a vehicle that passed over the creek and dropped a cylinder. ”

Eclectic, Alabama: “Tradition has it that the town was named by a local resident who had taken an “eclectic” course of study at school and so named the town because of the various surrounding geographic areas.”

Hell, Michigan: “After Michigan gained statehood, George Reeves was asked what he thought the town he helped settle should be called, and replied, “I don’t care, you can name it Hell for all I care.”"

Helper, Utah: “Trains traveling westward from the Price side to the Salt Lake City side of the plateau required additional “helper” engines in order to make the steep 15 mile climb up Price Canyon to the town of Soldier Summit. Helper was named after these helper engines.”

Hygiene, Colorado: “This community’s name stems from a time when it had a sanitarium to work with tuberculosis patients.”

Man, West Virginia: “The name of the town is believed to have come from the last syllable of the name of Ulysses Hinchman, who was a member of the West Virginia House of Delegates.”

Micro, North Carolina: “According to the United States Census Bureau, the town has a total area of 0.4 square miles (1.1 km²), all of it land.”

Muleshoe, Texas: “It is home to the National Mule Memorial. The mule is celebrated for his strength and sparse eating habits, traits which endeared him to the pioneers. In war, the mule carried cannon; in peace, he hauled freight. His small hooves allowed him to scale rocky areas.”

Peculiar, Missouri: “The story goes that the annoyed Thomson wrote to the Postmaster General himself to complain saying, among other things, “We don’t care what name you give us so long as it is sort of ‘peculiar’,” (with “peculiar” in quotation marks).”

Pillager, Minnesota: No word on whether the name relates to the Scandi-Viking stock of Minnesota’s inhabitants, but “Minnesota State Highway 210 and County 1 are two of the main routes in the community.”

Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico: “it took the name of a popular radio program in 1950, when Truth or Consequences host Ralph Edwards announced that he would do the program from the first town that renamed itself after the show.”

Going through Wikipedia (as I did), I could not help but noticing major naming trends: Independence, Liberty and Union were three very, very popular names. Naming your town after presidents or the founding fathers was also common. You get many, many places named after geographical features or local animals. Interestingly, people also seemed to name their settlements after early 19th C thinkers such as Humboldt and, ahem, Byron or Greco-Roman philosophers or places. Homesick settlers were also quick to name their new homes after what they left behind (to the extend I’m tempted to do a US tour of Europe at some stage). Bold advertisement such as “Belleville” is less common, but you still get it.

But, honestly, who’d name a place after a dropped cylinder?

A Beautiful Day

It’s going to be a beautiful day so the bluebirds sing.

I have booked myself a short, but much-needed flight home to Denmark in May. I need to spend time with the Danish part of myself, I have decided. Going back is always odd because it invariably ends up being a long series of meet-ups with everybody I have ever known in Denmark. I cannot remember the last time I spent a few hours in Copenhagen just, you know, hanging out with myself. I am not complaining. It just feels strange after having spent fifteen years in Copenhagen and suddenly the way I engage with my city is transformed. I think this is something most expats experience.

Linkage, then:

+ When I read “Glasgow Artist Restores Lost Mural” on the BBC website, I knew exactly who and what they were talking about. Wooh!
+ Cover Versions: “Classic records lost in time and format, remerged as Pelican books.”
+ Speaking of which .. Pelican paperbacks. I used to own a lot of them.
+ Art-House Book Trailers. Just as vile as the name suggests.
+ CraftGawker. Look, be inspired, create.
+ This Is Not A Riot: An effective, non-violent response to riot police. (I miss going to demonstrations)
+ The Fall of the Spanish Hapsburgs, or why marrying your first cousin is a bad, bad idea. See also this pictorial guide to the Spanish Hapsburgs. Ouch.
+ As seen everywhere on the web: Uncomfortable plot summaries. To wit: “Groundhog Day: Misanthropic creep exploits space/time anomaly to stalk coworker.”
+ And as seen on John’s blog: “Over the weekend, sharp-eyed Cassini-watchers on unmannedspaceflight.com noticed a series of way-cool photos on the mission’s raw images website.” Mindblowingly cool photos.

I finished reading The Time-Traveller’s Wife. It was rather “girly”. I have also begun yet another knitting project: Geno in duck’s-egg-blue milk-cotton. It’s rather lovely and very summery.

The Good Life

april-114Sunday afternoons. Don’t you just love them? Depending upon our mood and energy level, we either curl up with books or head out to explore our neighbourhood on foot.

Yesterday we donned our coats and went for a walk along the Forth and Clyde canal. Glasgow Council had obviously decided the footpaths needed a spring overhaul, as the topsoil had been scraped off the sides of the paths by diggers. Quite quickly our walk turned into something else: a treasure hunt. It started off with us noticing some lumps of jet-black glass, but when I started digging with a stick, something white started emerging. Clay tobacco pipes – most likely 19th century and quite possibly from when the canals were built? We found several stems and one bowl (which you can see in the photo). I’m fairly used to finding things in the ground – I grew up in a part of Denmark which has been populated since the Neolithic period and I have found flint arrow heads etc – but it is the first time I have found anything in Scotland. It makes me want to learn even more about our local history.

april-122 Knitting continues, of course. I have a few inches to go on the body before I’m starting the edging. I’m dragging it out a bit as I’ll be knitting the button band next and my buttons won’t arrive for a few days.

I’m a tiny bit concerned about the fit as the cardigan is quite tight on me at the moment, but I think the alpaca yarn will stretch considerably during blocking, so it will be okay. I hope blocking will also sort out the difference between the handspun yarn (which is relatively loose) and the alpaca yarn (which is relatively tight and curling a great deal). Blocking solves everything, right?

As the cardigan grows bigger every day, I have begun to think about tiny, portable projects. Recently I promised five friends that I’d make them a little handmade something each, so I have that in the back of my head too. I was wondering whether it would be possible for me to make five items using five different crafts – and while it would becompletely feasible, I’m slightly worried about quality control. Surely I’m not the only one who’s a bit paranoid about the quality of the things I make?

Thank you all for the books and TV suggestions. One of these days I should take photos of our bookshelves because I suspect you think I’m slightly bonkers when I say “oh, we already have that” or “oooh, David has that tucked away”. We have a lot of books (although not quite as many I used to have in Denmark, but that’s another story for another day).

PS. I cannot find my iPod. I’m mildly distressed.

Ghosts

krakowghosts
The Jewish Quarter, Kraków, Poland, March 2009

Letter from Krakow

Dear everybody,

I am typing this entry in the lobby of our Art Deco hotel in my bare feet. It has been raining all day and, just as I moved to Scotland without an umbrella and still do not own a pair of wellies, I cheerfully wore my comfy (not rainproof) sneakers to rainy Krakow. I also only packed three pairs of socks. I have already changed twice today, so I’m not quite sure how tomorrow is going to work out. I hope it will be drier.

Also? I had been singing New Lanark Aran wool’s praises in recent weeks and refuted any claims of its dye bleeding. I currently have a red-striped forehead where my newly-knitted New Lanark beanie in red has been resting. What do you mean I should’ve washed and blocked it before leaving? You sound as though I’m a patient sort of person!

Krakow, then. To me, it feels like a Copenhagen which has been through hardship and war (which Krakow has, of course). The same architectural feel, but very run-down in most places. A beautiful, proud but tired place. We visited the old Jewish Quarter today which affected me on a personal level (a long-lost branch of my family tree is Jewish) – particularly as somebody has drawn white ghostly figures on abandoned houses. I felt decidedly twitchy and we left for more carefree ventures. Tomorrow we intend on tracking down some Art Noveau stained glass, eat more pierogi (yum!) and just maybe take in a church or two before heading home to Glasgow and dry socks.

And I’ve bought the first Christmas present of the year. Score!

Knitting, Books and Heeland Coos!

Knitting: I have the body and one sleeve of Forecast done. In other word, one sleeve and the button bands to go. It has been a very quick knit so far – I wonder if I can finish it before the end of February? My plan was to finish it before we head off to Poland, so I’m well on my way to meeting that target. My knitting group has a crochet-focus meet-up planned, though and I was one of the bright ones suggesting it, but I really should get around to finish my cardigan. Also? Do I really feel like chaining up a crochet project when my fingers are itching to cast on for Frances.. decisions.

Books: I got quite a few book vouchers for my birthday and they had been burning a hole in my purse since .. well, last Wednesday! So yesterday I had a ‘little’ shopping expedition to Borders. I came away with:

  • Anne Donovan: Being Emily. Donovan is a local writer – so local that she lives just down the street – and I really enjoyed her Buddha Da.
  • Junot Diaz: The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao. It has been very well-received but in a manner which made me suspect I’d actually enjoy it. I’ve already begun reading it and, ten pages in, I’m not disappointed.
  • Ross Raisin: God’s Own Country. Okay, I admit I was swayed by the cover and the fact that I rarely get to read books set in Yorkshire’s sheep-herding communities. Shhh.
  • Michel Faber: Under the Skin. I haven’t read any Faber although friends tell me to read The Crimson Petal and the White. I thought a sinister little book might be a better introduction than a big, sprawling Victorian-esque caper. I like sinister books.
  • Michael Chabon: The Yiddish Policemen’s Union. After having read the wonderful Kavalier and Clay, both Other Half and I were keen to explore Chabon’s oeuvre. I have been warned that this is less engaging but seeing as a friend of mine apparently inspired a bit character, who am I to resist?
  • Robin Melanson: Knitting New Mittens and Gloves. Ahem, well.. I have been circling this book for quite some time now. Grumperina has quite a few pictures of various patterns up. I can see myself making a lot of these mittens in the future.

Today: David and I went to the Burrell Collection to see a British Museum travelling exhibition on Ancient Greece. How do I say this politely? Uhm, having previously lived in a city which boasts The Carlsberg Glyptotek, I was fairly underwhelmed. Fortunately we met this little guy in the pastures outside and he cheered us up (although David proceeded by getting lost in the park and I had to wait 40 minutes at the entrance before he made his way out. And he used to be a boy scout!):

feb2009-416

What She Came For

A note to Cail Bruich: when you advertise gravad lax with salad and rye bread, do not serve sour-dough bread. It is not the same. Also, consider serving the sour-dough rye bread with a smidgen of butter. Just saying.

Ah, I am nursing a post-birthday hangover (although not due to any alcohol consumption – perish the thought! – just general enthusiasm). So many of you have sent me birthday greetings – thank you so, so much – and I will make sure to get back to each and every one of you. It might take a few days, but you’ll get a personal thank you.

However, someone is having a very special birthday today! Happy birthday, Charles!

Structures Lost and Found

Two links:

Abandoned Russian Lighthouses – a series of crumbling structures in beautiful natural surroundings. Add a healthy dollop of poverty and tragedy:

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the unattended automatic lighthouses did [the] job for some time, but after some time they collapsed too. Mostly as a result of the hunt for the metals like copper and other stuff which were performed by the looters. They didn’t care or maybe even didn’t know the meaning of the “Radioactive Danger” sign and ignored them, breaking in and destroying the equipment.

The Linguistic Diversity of Europe – an interesting, if brief, look at how the linguistic landscape (literally!) may have looked as long as six millennia ago. Ringe makes a good case for how he constructs it (as we have very little, if any, hands-on evidence, obviously) and the comments are interesting too. I’m a sucker for (Proto-)Indo-European linguistic archaeology, anyhow even if that makes me sound vaguely geeky.

Do You Believe In Faeries?

fairyphoto1If you are familiar with the history of photography or an Arthur Conan Doyle
aficionado, you might recognise this photograph. It is one of the five Cottingley Faeries photographs.

In the early 19th century, photography was regarded as an instrument of truth. The camera couldn’t lie. When Elsie Wright and Frances Griffiths took the first two Cottingley photographs in 1917, their photographs were taken as proof that faeries existed. Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes and a noted Spiritualist, approached the girls a few years later, gave them a new camera and asked them to take more photos of the faeries. The girls obliged.

Nowadays it is difficult to understand how anybody could be hoodwinked by the photographs. The faeries look like cut-outs and the lighting is noticably “off”. Quite apart from the Arthur Conan Doyle connection (and the inevitable “How could the creator of the world’s most famous detective be fooled by this?!” question), these photos were arguably some of the first to trouble photography’s truth claim.

Elsie and Frances denied faking the faeries for most of their lives, but eventually owed up in the 1980s when both were dying. I was reminded of the Cottingley photographs when I was watching BBC’s Antique Roadshow this past Sunday. Frances’ daughter and grand-daughter showed up with the original photographs and the camera which Conan Doyle had given the girls. What struck me was not so much the estimated value of the photographs and the camera, but rather how the Cottingley incident had impacted an entire family. Frances’ daughter, now an elderly lady, visibly struggled to admit her mother had deceived an entire world. When asked, both the daughter and grand-daughter maintained the fifth and final photograph was genuine – but the grand-daughter looked as though she was protecting her own mother from an unbearable truth.

Photography has changed so much since two girls went down to the bottom of their garden and found faeries. Ellie pointed me towards a series of images from Google Earth which are staggeringly beautiful (particularly the one with the elephants). Make sure to explore the linked images to Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Everest.

Retrospect: On Cartoons, Personal Agendas and Denmark

Elsewhere on the net I’m currently embroiled in a discussion about religion. Usually I would stay far away from such a discussion – I’m a self-identified secular humanist with a strong agnostic bent and the only form of religious belief I find difficult to accept is a fundamentalist one (whether this be Christian, Islamic, Jewish, Hindi, Atheist or whatever) – but someone invoked the post-2005 variant upon Godwin’s Law: the darn Muhammed cartoons (first published in Denmark, of course). I could not stay silent because people invoke the cartoons and the public reaction without knowing anything about the actual context. It still bothers me after all these years.

So I’ve been toying with the good, old internet and dug out my old, old blog post (back from when I wrote really long, really smart blog posts). A lot has changed since I first posted it back in 2006. Some of the key players have died or changed allegiance. The world has moved on. I’m not longer living in Denmark and is (thankfully) no longer privy to what passes for political debate. But it makes for interesting reading, still.

Continue reading Retrospect: On Cartoons, Personal Agendas and Denmark