On names

The prayer of St Therese of Lisieux reminded me that my sister's last name is Therese, and I don't know why. I must ask her. I also had to find out what the name Therese means, and, if possible, its origin. (There is disagreement over its origin and meaning: after the Greek island of Thera (aka Santorini); it is derived from the words" to harvest" or "to hunt".
I have an interest in names, in particular, in traditions in giving names and the meaning of names. I found it very odd when I arrived in Cape Town in the late 1950s that someone could have a surname as a first name (Sir Devilliers Graaff). As my family is Catholic, saints names were de rigeur. My second name, Winifred, (I really dislike it) is that of my father's mother. My first name, Cecilia, was my mother's choice (and I was born on St Cecilia's Day). Unfortunately, I don't have any musical talents (St Cecilia is the patron Saint of Music) I have a voice like the Mouille Point fog horn and no sense of rhythm.
Nowadays, the meaning of names seems to receive little attention when babies are named.

St. Theresa's Prayer:

May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.

Someone sent me this. Even though I'm long lapsed from the Church of Rome, I can still appreciate the prayer. And I remember my mother, who spoke of the Little Flower, Therese of Lisieux.

Obstructive Sleep Apnoea

On Friday I heard the gladsome news that I suffer from a severe form of this. It explains, in part, why my cat won't sleep with me at night - my legs move over 30 times. No self respecting cat would put up with such a restless bed partner. I also stop breathing something like 22 times, the baseline is 5. It's scary to know you stop breathing so often when you are asleep and that your oxygen level drops to 80 %.

I told the doctor I don't want to be cut. (The dentist with his needles and drills is bad enough.) So the only option is a CPAP machine which will blow compressed air down my air passages to keep my soft palate from collapsing. The thought of going to bed every night connected to a machine and with a mask on my face is disconcerting. And what about vagaries of Eskom?

Chinese New Year, 2008: The Year of the Rat

I received an amusing and apt greeting from a friend in Malaysia. I have to share it:

May STUART LITTLE bring you comfort;
MICKEY MOUSE bring you joy;
RATATOULLIE bring you abundance of good foods;

Most importantly, may MINNIE MOUSE bring you ultimate beauty & pleasure.
Year of RAT with lots of laughter, love & Optimism
Happy LUNAR year

May you be blessed with good health and serenity.

With joyous metta

Zola

Once upon a time there was a tortoise who lived in a garden in Plumstead. You probably think of tortoises as slow, lethargic creatures. Well, when my family moved to Plumstead in the early 1980s, Zola very quickly disabused us of this stereotype. Zola was short for Zola Budd, a young, barefoot runner whose speed promised a successful international career. Our tortoise was a speedy one, hence the name, and not backward in coming forward. My father was a keen gardener. A reserved man, he lavished affection on his dogs, and spent most of his free time in the garden. His big toe was often the target of a tortoise's beak. Zola, impatient for lettuce from the fridge, lay in wait for him outside the front door. Oh, I forgot to mention, the runner was a she, but our Zola was a he.