Dr. Susanne Freeborn's Open Salon Blog

The Spanking Machine

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 18:11:59 -0500

It seems that Mike had lied to his teacher, Sister Beatrice, which sounds like a real 1950's nun's name, doesn't it? As it turns out, Mike was going to have a tough year. Later in the Spring he would come down with encephalitis, which caused him to completely lose both his bearings and his balance. He really didn't know where he was, up from down or one side from the other. He was lost and senseless and overwhelmed, and he was sure it was because this was, indeed, another incarnation of the spanking machine that the Mother Superior had told him about, and which he had tried as mightily as a little boy can to avoid.

Earlier in the Fall he had failed to bring something back signed from home. He had forgotten to give it to his mother entirely, becoming distracted with play after school, and then, as children sometimes do when caught between trouble at school and the trouble that can cause at home, Mike lied.

He didn't say the dog ate it, that would be stupid. He didn't tell Sister Beatrice that his parents were fighting and that his dad had given mommy a black eye and that she had been periodically sobbing in her room all night after Dad had stomped out of the house into the dark to go drinking at the NCO Club. His father had peeled out of the driveway in the Chevy Bel Air, leaving a cloud of burning rubber and the echoes of the rumbling engine sounds reverberating through the mufflers. He just hid under his blankets and he never showed them the permission slip.

So Mike told Sister Beatrice that he lost it on the way home, and was afraid he'd get into trouble. It wasn't entirely true, and somehow, Sister Beatrice always knew when little boys lied. So Sister Beatrice sent him, with a note, to the Mother Superior's office to explain himself to her.

It seems that there was a rumor that the Mother Superior had a spanking machine in her office. It was in a closet that no student had ever had the nerve to open and no student who had been subjected to it had ever disclosed the details of their experience. It was just one of those things that all of the children knew and all of the nuns took advantage of for what it lent to peace and order in the school.

Mike got up from his desk as bravely as he knew how and turned toward the classroom door as Sister Beatrice passed him the note. It was folded in half and he was instructed not to look, that it was for the Mother Superior and not for him. He trudged onward and out of the doorway, turning down the hall towards the office. Tears began to leak out of his eyes even as he bit his bottom lip, trying to contain them. He began to quiver and shake.

Little Mike began remembering everything that he had been told about the spanking machine. Apparently, the other kids had said it was like a big washing machine that the Mother Superior put the bad and disobedient children in for punishment. It had big hands with paddles, switches, leather belts and sticks in it that randomly struck the child it was punishing. But the worst thing of all was that once you had been put inside the spanking machine only God could stop it and it wasn't just for the thing you had been sent to the office about that you would be punished: it was for everything!

Walking towards the office, all of the inadequacies that had already been pointed out to him loomed like terrible sins for which he would be punished. All the ways he had disappointed his recently violent father. All the ways he had made his mother cry. He was pretty sure that he would not live.

He stood before the glass door to the office and the nun who acted as the receptionist saw him and waved him in to the office, taking the note and pointing toward a big, dark wooden bench. He sat on it alone with his feet dangling in the air.

She picked up the telephone and he fainted with the weight of the fear that had been consuming him since last night.

When he awakened he was lying on the bench with a scratchy, grey wool blanket thrown over him and his mother was sitting beside him looking worried. The Mother Superior said she wanted to speak to him for a moment. She took him into the office, and let him know that he had given them all quite a scare, and she handed him a copy of the permission slip for his parents to sign. He walked past a couple of closet doors before being led out of her office. He wondered which one contained the spanking machine, but at least for today, today would not be the day when he found out the secrets behind that closet door.

The end of the garden...still yummy!

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 18:11:15 -0500

UPDATED-Life with an Architect: Why Dan is THE Man

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 17:11:34 -0500

Architecture, of all the arts, is the one which acts the most slowly, but the most surely, on the soul.

Ernest Dimnet

I asked Dan to hang this chandelier in our entry hall for my birthday. It had been in the garage for two years. There were other projects that came first, it was not his fault! But one thing leads to another and now he has refinished and repainted the walls (twice) after having replaced some of the drywall because he found some mold that had been painted over by prior occupants.

The window and door trim has been sanded down and is being refinished and one of the doors is fitted and being finished to match. The tile is almost ready to grout. But geeze, he had to break out a lot of heavy, old, poorly installed tile and haul it out, level the floor so that it matches the room next to it for future tiling, and really, it turned out to be quite a lot, but, it is becoming more and more beautiful. When I bought this chandelier to match the other two and the rest of the lighting I had no idea what would transpire ...

Like this project, which came first:

Or this one, where he custom built a deep pantry cabinet with pull out shelves and built in microwave, which meant he had to run wiring and made it possible for us to store more than you can imagine:

Or later when he installed this lighting in the kitchen:

The kitties like to keep track of what he is doing:

That door is new and will be stained to match the stairs and trim.

The tile is almost all in:

There are just a few to set on the risers and then the grouting will begin. That is a cat door he built that goes to the kitty boys private latrine.

Dan never has any projects. Really. So while he missed getting the entry hall done for my birthday on November 6th, I have no complaints. If you hear me complaining, slap me, please.

I nearly always agree with Ralph Waldo Emerson, but in this he is wrong:

“Art is a jealous mistress, and if a man has a genius for painting, poetry, music, architecture or philosophy, he makes a bad husband and an ill provider."

Monday 11-16-09 Update:

This is a really messy process, but all that mortar does clean up with water.

The wood trim takes multiple steps ofmeasuring, cutting & mitering, sanding, staining, finishing, sanding, finishing, sanding, finishing and finally nailing and filling the nail holes so they disappear as much as possible. I am thinking that this will be done sometime this week. I hope.

Appetite, with an opinion of attaining, is called hope; the same, without such opinion, despair. Thomas Hobbes

A few words from the wise Hafiz...

Thu, 5 Nov 2009 08:11:17 -0500

Ten Thousand Idiots

It is always a danger to aspirants on the Path

When they begin
To believe and act

As if the ten thousand idiots
Who so long ruled
And lived Inside

Have all packed their bags
And skipped town

Or died.

Hafiz

The Peace Prize: Looking Forward Hopefully to Progress

Fri, 9 Oct 2009 06:10:57 -0400

The Nobel Peace Prize 2009

"for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples"

Immediately I was struck by this inquiry:

Isn't it hope for progress that this award truly signifies?

After all the years of fearmongering and unilateralism, we have a President who is interested in Peace itself, in diplomacy, in open relations among nations and multilateralism.

After working so hard on his campaign, I feel a little personal pride and personal ownership of this award and I think that everyone who worked so hard to elect Barack Obama should take this as a hat tip from the Peace Prize Committee for their efforts.

Congratulations Obama for America!

The basis for the prize, "As described in Nobel's will, one part was dedicated to "the person who shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses." Washington Post