Sunday, May 15, 2011

An Intense Curiousity

I woke this morning in a reflective mood. The whole of last week was crammed with travel for work, with things at home, and with a special outing of the Regency Society, and, given the luxurious gift of lounging by my sweet husband, who went off to Sunday school in the damp with the boys, I am here thinking.

Permulating upon it, as my father-in-law would say, musing upon it, I found a thread that tied all the experiences together. This past week, all week, I was in company with intensely curious people.
  • At week's start, it was the boys. They built and rebuilt with their blocks, they looked at their books and explained pictures to each other. We examined the small creeping things, the young worms, individual grains of soil; I tried to answer dozens squared of questions about how bees get pollen, why squirrels like eating on our deck with cats just on the other side of a window, why a chipmunk dug his hole in my flower bed and destroyed it, why the commode needs to flush, why Noah's knee scrape is red, and why Mama is too.
  • At week's middle, it was me, still trying to master (ha!) the finger and wrist movements and tension that best produce a fine rolled hem in filament silk gauze and wondering how proficient a professional of the 1790s was, what her speed and what different motions, and where did she sit?  Sideways at a double window with a north-western exposure, where few shadows intruded, perhaps? And where I might find more evidence for speed, needle handling and sewing setup.
  • Towards week's end it was infectious disease scientists where I work, presenting cumulative research upon the effectiveness of rabies vaccine given in baits to wild foxes in Europe, raccoons in America, the results of handwashing studies, stories of battles won and battles still engaged, by intensely curious people who have given the gift of their curiousity, at times their own health, and in some cases, their lives, to humankind to protect human and animal health. And a very special meeting with two mentors of mine, infectious disease pathologists of great ability and greater compassion, for whom I worked so happily and whom I still miss very much, more than a dozen years later.
  • Yesterday, it was six curious people ignoring rain and thunder to tour the first brick house west of the Alleghanies, two of them practicing living gracefully in full 1795-1802 ensembles for a few hours.
Intense curiousity. You are here reading because of it. The entire world of costuming is exploding these last few years with the evidence and results of our accumulated eyes, ears, fingers, figures, and experiences. The twins are hugely enjoying their curiousity, and our family with them. My professional world is, too. Let's give thanks for the gift of it...many thanks!


The Dreamstress said...

Lovely post. Curiosity is really the thing that makes life worth living. It would be such a dreadful thing to live without curiosity.

ZipZip said...

Dear Leimomi,

So agree. I feel like telling anyone who asks why I must always be doing or planning something that if they were to squash those efforts, they would squash most of my identity and joy in living, not to mention any success I might ever have in raising a family or in my profession.

Very best to another intensely curious person,