Alonzo Edward "Ed" Cady

Ed Cady was a relative of mine; more precisely my father's cousin's wife. He passed away a week ago. I never knew him well - my father's family is huge and spread out across the US, while I grew up in distant Switzerland - but amongst the many names and faces from my hundred + relatives at family reunions, Ed and Carolyn's were two I could always place. Not least of all because they were always, constantly and without fail smiling.

I just read Ed's obituary and it made me realise how little I knew about him and his wife. Or rather: that I knew nothing about them and their life. This reminded me of a conversation I had a couple of years ago with a friend of my parents' about the importance of sharing family history. There was quite a backdrop to his particular story, but it did resonate with me.

As mentioned I grew up a fair distance from both of my parents' families, and I knew both my mother and father in a context foreign to that in which they themselves grew up. When my grandmother Anita passed it was the first time I realised how much about her life I would never truly know. I don't feel completely detached from her history, rather I like to think that I am a product of it, mixed with many others. But it's another world I will never truly enter.

Would more stories have made up for that? I don't know, possibly not. I guess there is always a sense of lacking at a time of death, no matter what. On the other hand everything I can learn about her makes me smile. It all fascinates me as something I have only known from fictional stories, and yet here it is real, here it is part of me.

This post has ended up being more depressing that I had meant it to be. Look at it the other way: how wonderful is man's life. How full of joy the every day life we ignore while we live it. How beautiful the life of this man, Ed Cady, as he passed through life day by day, ending each sunset with something more than he had at sunrise.

On April 27th friends and family in Fort Collins, CO, will gather together to celebrate Ed's life. An exercise that should take place every day during life, at the time of death and still every day thereafter.

Brain Re-wiring

In a few hours I will be seeing a neurologist. Not because I am neurotic- actually, perhaps yes I am. But if I am then I have yet to discover it.

In any case, this visit is because of headaches which have been plaguing me for the last few months. I know: headaches? Really? Like that is an illness? I agree, if I am to see a specialist medic I would also rather it was for real damage, like a severed leg or brain trauma. However these headaches have been strong enough that, deny them as I may, I am still pretty much locked in bed whenever they hit.

I have seen a doctor, a physio and a dentist (the teeth-grinding saga) so far, and all have told me to deal with my stress (really, people: what stress?!). Acupuncture, massages, meditation (with the last suggestion I almost fell out of my dentist's chair). As my colleague says: it's a bit like in the middle ages and whatever ailment you had, you were bled; now it's dealing with stress, "take a holiday" and all your problems will disappear.

So, well, wish me luck. If all goes as I hope it does, the neurologist will poke inside my brain and say "Ah, here, it is just that you have been drinking too much French wine. Substitute with Italian reds and you will be fine".

Geekiness

In case you doubted my geekiness, I actually read through all of this:

The New Guy's Computer
http://37signals.com/svn/posts/2855-the-new-guys-computer

Tiger Farms

Yesterday was the second meetup for our International Professional Women in London group. It was a stunning day and warm straight through to sun-down, so a double thanks to those of you who made it indoors to join us.

And to those who didn't: you missed learning about tiger farms. And other fascinating tiger conservation facts. One of the problems with tiger conservation is when these cuddly animals wander in to towns and villages, and the local population, of course, kill them (to protect themselves and their livestock).

I was thinking about how the most dangerous animal you risk meeting in a Swiss village is a depressed cow. Actually there are of deer but otherwise you mainly encounter farm animals. And boom: we are told about tiger farms. Yes, they are real: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703455804575057101418533006.html

Not to mention tiger corridors (they are civilised animals aren't they).

Geek: It's the New Black

About a week ago I was at a dinner party, getting to know my neighbours at the table. Well, some of them: I was at the children's table and I confess the only other person I knew at the party (other than the host) was a 19 year old across from me. But that's a different story.

After explaining that his wife is a part-time writer, the long-haired, soft-spoken orchestra-conductor-looking man on my left smiles timidly and confesses - as his tone of voice suggested - that he is a Geek.

You can imagine my joy. I had thought this party would be mainly art curators, reporters and authors, and here I was: seated next to one of my own. My eyes brightened, I smiled and with great warmth and pride exclaimed "So am I!", as Giuseppe remarked enthusiastically "My wife is one of those!"

We soon came to discussing who first made Geek cool (Giuseppe says Bill Gates, I say Mark Zuckerberg). Our dinner-mate says neither: we hate Gates for his anti-open-source practices and Zuckerberg is too showy. Ok clearly he was a Purist Geek. Those are good too.

In any case I stand in the Zuckerberg camp (and hats off to JT for his part in this social shift). What do you think? With all his fame Gates still never quite made it main-stream cool to be a Geek. I won't say Zuckerberg single-handedly did that either, but it is what he represents: the small, almost presumptuous, online startup.

Man, I Feel Like a Woman

Yesterday I both washed my make up brushes and made tiramisu. If this all made me feel unnaturally feminine, does it mean I am sexist?

I used my mother's recipe for tiramisu, which some of you know: makes the best tiramisu in the world. Hands down.

In fact I inherit from my mother all my best traits: an over-sized Roman nose, a complete lack of patience and a sweet tooth that knows no boundaries. Not to mention my kitchen-boredom. Cooking requires great will power for me, and I can only cook recipes that require constant action. As soon as I have to wait, stir, watch, the dish is pretty much doomed. The only exception is sweets. And not faux-healthy sorbet or fruit pudding. I am talking ice cream, brownies, cakes and, we now discover: tiramisu. If I know I get desert at the end of it, I can cook and cook and cook.

In case you are wondering: the tiramisu was delicious! Yes. even exclamation-point-worthy.

Dubious Pleasures

Thanks to Giuseppe watching American Idol I got to see Jaime Fox and Will I Am go on stage and lament their stomach cramps. It's too bad they both felt so ill just when they had to sing, butchery is the only word for the performance.

In my humble and all of that.

In other news I have had my last (for now) session of physio. For the knots in my shoulders and neck. Caused by my stressful lifestyle. Of course I have neither a stressful lifestyle, nor big rusty knots in my shoulders and neck, but doctors will have no telling.

The dentist was my next stop and I have been told to brush my teeth less:

From 3 times a day go down to two

From 3 minutes each time go down to 2 minutes

Don't brush so actively

Oh and try this Thai toothbrush I'll flog you for 3 quid.

Sure, OK.

Oh well. To anyone scheduled to come to our IPWL drinks on Wednesday: I look forward to seeing you. Anybody else: let me know if you are interested in attending. Back to the website now.