The Burden of a Name

Growing up, I was never very happy with the first name Marie.

For one thing, I was the only one who had it, and in elementary school, anything that sets you apart is risky. And anyway, everyone wanted to call me Maria, which was worse than having a ‘weird’ name (because it wasn’t even the right name, and sounds entirely different—although only when your name is Marie, apparently).

Marie Curie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s grown on me since, and I like how it suits me: a little old-fashioned, a little different. Knowing approximately 20% of the female population seems to have it as a middle name is somewhat aggravating, however. It works so so well for me, why doesn’t everyone want it?

One of my main complaints growing up with the name Marie was its history. Notable figures named Marie: Marie Antoinette (reviled throughout history and had her head cut off and especially the obnoxious way she’s glorified by pop culture) and Marie Curie (who poisoned herself with radiation, whatever she did for science).  I like knowing about science in the general sense, but I’ve never particularly wanted to practice it, and so what did I have to look up to.

On a whim I looked  up the name Marie in behindthename.com, which is probably my favorite name site (for fiction purposes).

I rather like those stats. And while some of the comments on the website were positively mean:

“Marie sounds nice and I was planning on using it as a middle name for my daughter. I’m so glad I looked up the meaning first! It means “Bitterness” “Sea of Bitterness” and “Rebellious”. For me that’s a deal breaker of massive proportions. So I warn all who plan on using this name: ABSOLUTELY HORRID MEANING!”

Well fortunately, other commentators mentioned that that isn’t necessarily its meaning, but quite frankly that seems rather vitriolic (and maybe, to be judgmental, simplistic) or just a name.

Isabella Teotochi Marini (Photo credit: Maia C)

And then many of the commentators linked me to other famous Maries: unfortunately one of my favorites gave up the Marie: Vigée Le Brun, the 18th century artist who started out as Marie Louise, which admittedly, is a little less distinctive, but I didn’t even know she’d at least been born a Marie. That may have even been inspiring to an inspiring artist. And she was a favorite portraitist of Marie Antoinette.

And aside from the two most famous Maries, a scientist and an unfortunate queen (maybe Madeleine Albright, the first female Secretary of State, but no one knows recent history of politics or reality, and she gave up the name Marie), there were a few Marie artists, like Marie de France, a medieval poet. And considering medieval times, being a famous female poet isn’t bad. There’s also Marie Wittich, apparently a well-known German opera singer, but I know little about the comparative fame of any opera singers.

Marie Lloyd (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I do like opera casually, though, so I’ll take her. Slightly less related, but both a Marie and a Medici, Marie de’ Medici was queen of France and disliked by whoever wrote her Wikipedia article, but she supported the arts. And finally, there’s Marie Lloyd, whose name wasn’t actually Marie, but was a popular music hall singer turn of the (20th) century who showed great skill in innuendo and was refused entry into the US for “moral turpitude”, which I find rather fantastic, so I’ll take her too.

And this how the German’s pronounce it, just because,  http://www.nordicnames.de/Aussprache.html

As for my lack of interest in Marie Curie growing up, I’ve heard about a couple new biographies recently, so we’ll see how that goes.

Flinging Firewood

I love the smell of a real wood stove fire. It’s the only smoke that doesn’t make me hack. But it seems more and more places (at least in California) are banning wood burning for air quality.

Living in the middle of nowhere means the effect is negligible. Or at least there aren’t enough environmentalists to outvote all those who use it a primary heat-source. But wood is a lot of work.

Have you ever tried to move a wood pile?

It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t take so much. Last winter, we burned nine cords.

A cord is a pile of split wood 4x4x8 feet. Plus a weight, but it’s not exactly something most people can measure, so it’s pile size.

 

 

Anyway, we already have had five cords delivered, and my brothers and I just moved the first of the two delivered today. Because I’m woefully out of shape—especially my shoulders and back and arms. You know, exactly what goes in to moving a giant pile of wood. At least my brothers were still willing to do the big stacking stuff.

Meanwhile, as I haphazardly tossed the wood in the general direction of where it should go (usually at my brothers, who are at least good at catching) I learned that whoever* cut our wood also approached the task in a haphazard manner.

How to Cut Wood Properly (according to almost-two Eagle Scouts, secondhand, several hours after the casual conversation)

1. The pieces should be about the same length. So the cutter of the wood, once he has his log

The "square-cut" wood, in a "tie" method of stacking, which is a little more sturdy. I think.

(assume it’s a brother), ought to mark it equally lengthwise with his chainsaw to ensure evenness. Since once you’ve got it in pieces, you can’t exactly hold up what you cut before to make sure before you make the next cut.

 

Well, I suppose you could, but it would be awfully time consuming.

 

The "straight stack" method, or at least that's what I'm calling it.

 

2. When splitting, there are two kinds of usefully cut wood. Square and triangular. Or something. And this part can’t actually be controlled, because a splitter is some kind of machine with a giant nail on the end that you whack the cut pieces of wood with, and then they fall apart. Ideally.

Because up here in the northern California eastern high deserts the only real wood is juniper, which is terribly knotty, and only gets knottier as it gets older.  Fortunately it’s good for burning, as it isn’t good for much else.

3. If the log was cut evenly, you should not end up with odd, completely unstackable

 

This is what I call a "very odd piece".

 

ends, because even though they’re still burnable, they don’t like to fit in the fireplace with all the other wood either. That makes it hard to build up a fire that will last the night—when fires are especially necessary.

After the Cutting

Once you have the cut wood, it has to be delivered. If you’re fortunate, you are doing the delivering because here you get paid. If you are receiving, here is where you pay some $150 dollars per cord, depending on the kind of wood, the seller, or where you live. Unless you pay extra, you receive this wood in a giant pile that the deliverer throws over the fence.

It’s a great big pile, and seems to take an hour plus per cord. Wear gloves, and be prepared to have two pieces of wood of similar sizes to have extremely different weights. Watch your shoulders, remember to lift correctly (with the legs, and don’t twist), and use both arms to toss—as the woodpile gets smaller, you have to shift it closer to the stack.

Or you could have two big burly boy scouts who are good at catching flung wood.

 

Yay! A fully-stocked woodshed!

 

*is there anyone who can tell me if I should use “whomever” there? Shame on me, the so-called English major, but I tried, I really did.