Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Archive for the tag “postaday2011”

A Past Passover in the Present

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“They are to eat the lamb, together with unleavened bread and bitter herbs.”

Numbers ch 9 vs 11

A couple of weeks ago I set up a tableau of a 1st century Seder. I wanted it to look as if Jesus had just shared the last supper – a celebration of the Passover –  with his disciples and then gone out. Any authenticity about the table was undermined by the various labels and speech bubbles littering the props, but my intention was to give a sense of the meal that had taken place in terms of the food and the conversation.

As admitted before, I am not sure how much of the Seder as the internet describes it was current in the tradition of Jerusalem during the life of Jesus. Also, I have not been to a Seder since I was about fifteen, and on a school trip with my R.E class,  and I am sketchy on how the food would actually look today. This is just my best guess, so please bear with me.

The first picture here is supposed to be a representation of charoses – a mixture of nuts, apples, cinnamon and wine. This dish is supposed to remind the participants of the mortar used in slavery in Egypt in their building work.

The leaf is Romaine lettuce and in the dish is some horseradish. These are bitter herbs which are a reminer of the bitterness of slavery.

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Here is a picture of parsley and salted water. My understanding is that these herbs would be dipped in the water and the resulting drops would remind the participants of the tears of the slaves.

The dipping in the bowl is mentioned at the Last Supper:

And while they were eating, he said, I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.

22 They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, Surely not I, Lord?

23 Jesus replied, The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me.

24 The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.

25 Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, Surely not I, Rabbi? Jesus answered, Yes, it is you.

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On this  Seder plate I put the egg, and my representation of the lamb shank.  Now, the egg shouldn’t be here! From my internet reading, the roasted egg is supposed to symbolise or replace a temple offering. This was brought in after the destruction of the temple in CE73. Although, I don’t know, maybe it was done in exile? However, I am having to live with my anachronisms! So, the egg is in mourning for the loss of the temple and apparently is not a formal part of the Seder.

Even so, from a Christian perspective, the image of the destruction of the temple was used by Jesus in his discussion in the temple when he caused a stir there just before a Passover:

  When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables.  To those who sold doves he said, Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!  His disciples remembered that it is written: Zeal for your house will consume me.  Then the Jews demanded of him, What miraculous sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this? Jesus answered them, Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.  The Jews replied, It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days? But the temple he had spoken of was his body.

John Chapter 2 vs 13-21

Speaking of which, this is where the Passover, for the disciples, took a turn. If the disciples had been following the Seder as carried out today, during the meal, the middle Matzoh would have been taken away from the table, wrapped and hidden, to be brought back to the table for dessert. This was the afikomen – unleavened bread to be shared out.

It would make sense to me if this was the broken piece that Jesus picked up and broke when he instituted communion with the words “This is my body”. You can see, with hindsight, how this would have perhaps given the early Christians a double layer of significance – once the death and resurrection occurred. His body was broken, wrapped, hidden and returned.

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The second item left at the end of the Seder is the Cup of Elijah. Elijah is associated with the covenant of circumscision. I am not quite sure why, but that appears to be the case. Elijah’s other role was to do with heralding the Messiah, which is why people asked John the Baptist if he was Elijah. During the seder, the door is opened, to welcome Elijah, to see if he will come and drink his cup of wine at the table and therefore announce the messiah. I imagine that the opening of the door is a bit of an exciting moment for children at a Seder, wondering if anything will happen.

What a surprise for the disciples, then, when Jesus lifts the cup and announces the “new covenant” in his blood, and claims the wine in the cup as his own blood. Again, when the disciples would have hindsight, they would see more layers of meaning in Jesus’s re-interpretation of the end of the Seder.

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So, that was the end of my 1st century Seder, turned Last Supper. It is not often that I think of Communion in terms of the Passover, but it certainly makes me think when I do. The whole idea of the Passover meal was to commemorate the Exodus  – where the blood of a lamb was used to mark the doorposts of the homes where no one was to die. They were going from slavery to freedom. In the Easter story, the same thing happens. A lamb, in this case Jesus, is sacrificed.

Jesus’ treatment of the afikomen and the Cup of Elijah became “The Lord’s Supper” for people who thought that Jesus was indeed the Messiah.  Both the Passover meal and the Lord’s supper still happen today so that people can remember how they found freedom.

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Postmodernist Soup

I’m choking on a mouthful of postmodern soup;
A blend to end all.

Every idea tossed in:
Heated through for centuries,
Over hot coals of millennia.

What bubbles to the surface?

I skim the scum;
Sip scalding soup.
What flavour is it in the end?

Vague and bland and beige.

I’m gagging,
I’m choking,

I shrink
And change
Into a pillar of salt.

I’m going in.

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Three Hundred Wee Scoops

I feel like I’ve been working in an Ice-cream cafe. This is my three-hundredth Wee Scoop.

This means I must have completely failed with the “Post-a-day” thing – as I should be at three hundred and fifty four by now.


Maybe I had a life? Maybe 😕

So, to celebrate 300 Scoops of Wee-ness, I’ll try and break the 15,000 hits barrier by tempting you down memory lane.

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It seems I find a filter through which to view the world for a spell, until I get a new filter. For a time it was House, for a time it was Peter Pan, for a time it was Scrabble, for a time it was Exodus, for a time it was The Sound of Music.

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I wrote poems about birds, housework, dresses, a bus and a violin – among other things.

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I wrote about my experiences setting fire to toasters, having an unreliable car, failing to bake well and losing cardigans.

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I blew my brains out wrestling with concepts like free will, grace, mercy and truth.

I met myself in a game show, in a lift, in an Agatha Christie drawing room and in the past.

If you have any suggestions for future posts, post them below, then I’ll post on them.

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Here’s hoping there are 15,000 hits before Wee Scoops’s anniversary at the end of the month 😆

They’ve found me. I don’t know how, but they’ve found me. Run for it, Marty!

OK. I do, actually.

Thanks to WordPress for archiving the search terms and to Tilly Bud for the post idea.

And here’s how they did it:

Some people wanted to ask the BIG QUESTION:

who was first to choin byker grove ant or dec?

who appeared first in biker grove, ant or drc?

biker grove was dec in it first

There were others with queries not nearly as profound, but important nevertheless:

how many times did moses cross the red sea

in scrabble, are you supposed to open up

has the kiwi tavernauchtertool changed hands

why could harry potter resurrect himself

Others were certainly barking up the wrong tree:

robot parrots that can fly

rancid photos 2011

what to wear to interview for kitchen staff job

“supermodel” “towel on her head”

tabloid chocolate

And these take the biscuit:

a lot of biscuits

can you have tunnock’s tea cakes when pregnant

jaffa cake cake or biscuit

purchase biscuits small packets in delhi

homemade jaffacakes

Lastly, nice try, but this isn’t a homework service:

how is “i wouldn’t ask too much of her. i ventured. you can’t repeat the past” a metaphor for the entire novel

It worries me how easy it is to be a global authority on things. I was top hit on “capricious martinets” for quite a while…

The Apostle Paul, Scout Finch and Jay Gatsby work with me on my resolve to resolve.

For once, I didn’t even get on the “Read-the-Bible-In-A-Year” wagon. I wouldn’t want to set myself up for that “Third-of-January-Guilt-But-Don’t-Worry-There’s-Infinite-Grace” syndrome on the third.

After my cardigan-losing streak, one reader pointed out that I was in good company. The apostle Paul had a similar issue:

“When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments.  2 Timothy ch  4

With that Pauline affinity, I then went to church on New Year’s Day and it seemed to me that Paul had a resolution that any Christian should share:

 “I want to know Christ…”

Can’t really argue with that.

He goes on, and part of what he goes on to say is:

Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Forgetting what is behind…? I don’t think he had knitwear in mind here.

But I do think he meant that the past is past and it shouldn’t hold us back. Nor should it make us complacent.

I feel myself about to side-step into The Great Gatsby… Perhaps I should stop here 🙂

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”.

Last line of “The Great Gatsby” by F Scott Fitzgerald.

So, pressing on, or being borne back ceaselessly? Hmm…

Ah! I was just thinking “treading water” is perhaps the solution – but Paul also gives some treading water advice, arguably. He says:

“Let us live up to what we have already attained.”

Oh no! I feel “To Kill A Mockingbird” coming on…

“Standing on the porch is enough.”

I hope that a) anyone has followed this train of thought, and that b) you find your place of Grace – be it pressing on, treading water, beating on… or standing on the porch.

Too Many Resolutions

Last year I had four resolutions: read, run, diet and give blood.

And I did all four. It was a poor year for books, I thought, with “The Help” being about the best, I think. I want to read a lot in 2012 also. I have got “The Talented Mr Ripley” and “Water for Elephants” and “Wasted In Love” lined up for starters. But I can’t start reading until my house isn’t a mess.

I ran also. Slowly, but I ran. And I hope to run again. Just the Glasgow Women’s 10K and I’ll hope to go a smidge faster.

Like the rest of Scotland the diet will start soon. I am looking forward to that. I over-bought on the brie and the fridge smells a bit pungent. I’ll be glad to see the back of the cheese.

I gave blood but I’ve not to give again until June because I was so faint afterwards. How pathetic.

But this year there are quite a few things I want to do in addition to maintaining the four from last year. I’ll hopefully be able to whittle it down tomorrow a bit. Here’s where the list stands:

1. Learn how to make pancakes. Pancake day was a complete fiasco and it surely can’t be that hard. If you need reminding, have a look and the pancake carnage of 2011.
2. Learn German. I think it is only polite to order your apple strudel in the language of its origin. And I want to go back to German speaking lands again in the future and want to be prepared.
3. Paint a picture.
4. Be ruthless with decluttering and chucking stuff out.
5. Finish the first draft of the Nanowrimo novel by the end of November 2012.

Maybe that’s not too many. It’s the learning German that might prove a bit tricky. Zum Glück habe ich google translate – aber ich weiß nicht, ob es eine Verwendung ist. Ich vermute nicht.


Knit Wit

As soon as I felt the first chill wind of October I was on a mission to get ahead of the weather. Last year was a total fail, preparation-wise. The children had the wrong footwear, they had no waterproofs and, for myself, I had to cobble together a layered approach to create a ‘coat’ effect out of a few fleeces and a waterproof jacket.

Not so this year. They have all-in-one snow suits and have made their snow angels as hoped. They had appropriate footwear for any weather eventuality. And I pre-emptively bought myself a bumfle-jacket to be proud of. It’s long, it’s padded, it’s hooded and it’s warm. It may have a kind of polar-bear-huntress look about it, but it does the job.

But it has a couple of downsides.

Firstly, it is beige. So when you lift small children with muddy boots, it isn’t beige. So you have to wash it. Which would be fine – it’s machine-washable and tumble-dryable. As long as you tumble dry it with tennis balls.

Which means you have to go and buy tennis balls in late November when they are not exactly seasonal. Sainbsburys had tennis racquets and shuttlecocks. *resists lapsing into a discussion of the spelling of raquet/racket, just saying* Asda: fail. But Tesco came up with the tennis balls, so I could drop the clatty look and go back to the original Winterwonderland Chic look with which I began.

All this is pure preamble to my main theme: I am developing a new habit – leaving cardigans behind.

While the bumfle jacket is great for being outside, it is NOT APPROPRIATE for the indoors. As soon as I go in anywhere, I start to feel positively ill, panicky and overheat – and it is a race between me and the coat. Can it make me pass out before I remember to take it off? Usually I win.

And on leaving a place, once I put it on, I have to make a swift exit before I swoon from the heat, so my partings are swift and fleeting, so I don’t slip in a slick of my own sweat on the way to the door.

All this heat means that, once the jacket is on, I don”t think to myself “Hey, I’m sure I arrived with a cardigan and scarf on”. So I leave my cardigan behind.

The first time was a few weeks ago. I was timing my exit precisely for my bus, so donned the jacket and made my exit. I was crossing the road to the bus stop and realised Doh!: no cardi. Or scarf, as it turned out.

And then tonight.

Another saga encroaches on my relating here my cardigan habit. The extenstion. I’ll try not to go there – suffice to say: it is NOT WARM. Because of this I had asked my relis for long woollens for Christmas, so that I can be in the extension. And they came good, with a duo of long grey cardis. Today, mid afternoon I suddenly realised that I was frozen to the bone, so I put on both of them and began to defrost, before I went out.

Bumfle jacket on, over the two grey cardis, off I went for the afternoon and evening. And again, on leaving one venue for the next, I left my cardis behind. So I texted three people that were still there and phoned the place and got them to corale my belongings.

At this rate, I will be cardiganless by the new year. Apparently it takes five repetitions to create a habit and this is a habit I do not want to create.

I hope, by writing this, I have caught this stitch in time…

The Dawning Of Considerate Children

Today, I slept, on and off, until 10am. They let me sleep; the wee darlings.

They let me go out to a cafe for a late breakfast with a friend; they let me go for dinner tonight with friends.

Lovely day.

Eight or so years in the making.

Prosecco Hugo – a taste of the Tyrol

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At my mother’s 70th there was a bit of a run on the Appeltiser, which left me with a surplus of Prosecco. So, for a Boxing Day special, I thought I’d make a Prosecco Hugo as served on the jaunt to Salzburg in the restaurant Shrimps.

First I crushed some mint leaves and put them in the base of the glass.

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I added a couple of wee slices of lime;

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I added some ice and a wee bit of elderflower cordial and made the rest up with the prosecco. I should have had some carbonated mineral water in there as well, but I, well, didn’t have any.

So there we go.

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Sehr schön! Prost! (Thanks Kirsty)

Christmas and Time

There’s nothing you can do to stop Christmas. It doesn’t matter if the day doesn’t suit you, or if you are not ready for it: the twenty-fifth will come at its allotted time and become the twenty-sixth twenty-four hours later. There’s nothing you can do.

It’s a day like no other – but not in that respect – any day will come and go in its own good time.

When you are small, Christmas seems to take for ever to arrive. When you are grown, Christmas comes round faster and faster on some kind of exponential trajectory. Perhaps in a few years I’ll be living in a kind of perpetual advent.

Perhaps I already am.

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