Rambling.

I am repeatedly surprised how much colloquial Modern Welsh I pick up by following my friend James on Facebook. E.g.:

"Tudur Hwys Jones, Duw ym mysg ddynion." = "Tudur Hwys Jones, a god among men."

You know you've always wanted to know how to say that.

In other news, Tuesday's (day late) St. Teresa of Avila dessert-having was rather successful, and continued into the next afternoon when I brought leftovers to the CMS lunchroom. I really, really like the CMS-ers... and I really, really miss my Chicago friends. Particularly, having shown the boys Steph's photo album of St. Thomas Aquinas becoming friends with a paper cutout of Nietzsche, the inanimate ones.

And now, a short overview of what I've been doing in class.
Monday's discussion of The Poem of The Cid in my course on Medieval Spain ended with our professor announcing, "you know, those of us with beards *are* the most manly men...".

Latin continues apace as we translate the Vulgate account of David and Bathsheba-- in which, I would have you note, there is no reference to David's "siesta," no matter what the USCCB may think.

(Warning: Girl Talk)

There was one rather embarrassing moment in class when our future Benedictine asked why Bathsheba was "statim sanctificata est", since in the Vulgate it really does appear that purification is effected by the adultery, rather than as a result of biological things going on beforehand. Having already been the one who explained to the class that a whether is a castrated sheep, I didn't want to have to be the one to say, "well, once a month women get a little grumpy..." The instructor merely said, "Well, if you read the book of Leviticus, there are many things after which one is supposed to have a bath."

I am, however, disturbed by this particular student's question, because when I was wondering what was going on with the "sanctificata est" and the Douay-Rheims online provided no help, I went to the RSV (which--get this--*actually looked at the Hebrew*) for help. Is our Benedictine Rad Trad too much of a traditionalist to read a modern translation?

I'm sure Heavens will have something to say about the above two passages. Probably correcting my Latin.

Middle Welsh continues slowly, although we are supposed to start reading Pwyll next week. The professor walked us through the first few lines. "You see that particle? That's marking that the verb is in a weird place in the sentence. Now, that particle? That marks that the verb is in the normal place in the sentence." Yes. At least we're better off than Celticist Roommate's Old Irish class.

Then I went to his office hours to ask him about PhD programs where they would be comfortable letting me be both a Celticist and an Historian, and he kinda sorta maybe offered me a thesis topic. For which I would need to be amazing enough to actually get into the PhD program here. Yeeep.

Today's project: scandalous rhetoric texts describing how to write love letters to Nuns! Hurrah!

I apologize for the rambling... I'd edit, but I wanted to be at PIMS by 10, and I'm running rather late.

Why don't they make brown mantillas?

The traditional white=maidens, black=wives dichotomy for chapel veils does not match the color scheme of my wardrobe. (Yes, yes, vanity, vanity...)

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"Asterisks? So soon?"-- E.B. White, "One Man's Meat"
In other news: check out the sexy updates to the sidebar! The webcomics section is...embarrassingly long.

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In other, other news: today was the feast of St. George. Being part Welsh and part Scottish, my general reaction was, "you want me to celebrate what, now?" But this was before I learned about the Catalan traditions surrounding the feast. In their story, after George has saved the fair maiden from the dragon, the dragon's blood turned to roses. Therefore, men traditionally give their sweethearts red roses on the day. In return, honoring the death of Shakespeare, Cervantes, and another famous writer, women give their sweethearts books. Books! This is a saint's day tradition for the University of Chicago.

In the talk I attended, "The Never-Ending Catalan Middle Ages," there was an offhand remark to England (like Catalonia) being a country with a "chivalric" ethic. So I thought I'd share some of that chivalry with you. From Rhygyfarch's "Lament":

Why have the blind fates not let us die? Now the labors of earlier days lie despised; the people and the priest are despised by the word, heart, and work of the Normans. For they increase our taxes and burn our properties…The honest man’s hand is branded by burning metals. A woman now lacks her nose, a man his genitals…Serfdom is brought to the neck with a meat-hook, and learns that nothing can be had at will…O unhappy and lamentable fate; slothful in seeking peace, slothful in taking up arms. O Wales you are afflicted and dying…An alien crowd speaks of you as hateful…O country deserted by God…What is now left for you but to weep excessively?

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In the "Yes, we have these conversations" department:

A: I really should learn to drive, though, in case some day one of my kids needs to be driven to the hospital in an emergency or something.
C: Or to soccer practice.
A: I don't think that I would have very athletic children. Dance class, maybe, or choir practice... they could probably ride their bikes to the library...
C: The library? Won't they have their own library? Aren't you going to raise them on Cicero and Shakespeare?
A: Well, you can't do that too early. Otherwise they end up like John Stewart Mill, and nobody wants that.