Torch bearers

No, it can't be morning yet, put the blankies back!


I came across a Greek quotation, which blessedly was translated, as I found after struggling with it for a while, and since I don't have an attribution for it, sorry, can't credit the writer, because I copied it into my little notebook along with notes to buy eggs and stamps, probably an ancient, and I don't have Greek characters on my keyboard, here's my really rough transliteration:

lampadia echontes, diadowsousin allelois

Those who have torches will pass them on to others.

The Olympic spirit in words, I guess. But metaphorically it's interesting to see all the places where we can derive useful life lessons, which I'm always in search of.

Sometimes the lessons are negative ones, not the favorites, but sometimes they're very positive, such as the care and attention shown by Marigold and Duncan during HP's recent sharp illness and the consequent rushings in and out of doctors, nurses, xray technicians and so on. They scrutinized everyone with care, making sure they didn't do anything wrong, but they ran at the sight of the giant xray machine coming in like a dinosaur.

Then, once the emergency passed, the cats resumed doing what the thinking cat does in chilly sleety late fall weather. Sleeping. Stealing drinking straws to juggle across the floor and under the sofa. Hunting one another up and down the stairs like a troop of cavalry.

And there's HS, whose equanimity when his father's dementia causes snarling and rage, which passes like a cloud passing over the sun, never taking it personally, reminds me that it's not the person fussing, it's the disorder talking, not to take it personally. It's not about me.

Not a bad motto, in fact. And there my musings end on this subject. You'll be glad to hear...