The Blue-Bearded Fox

Once upon a time, a man and a woman got married.

As beginnings go it isn't that exciting. It's the sort of thing that happens every day. Nevertheless every story must start somewhere, and this one starts here.

The man had been married before. He was a rich widower who liked to have a woman around the house. His new wife was young and beautiful and not at all sure what she was getting into.

After the wedding she moved into his large house. Maybe mansion is more accurate. The only rule he had was that she must stay out of his study.

Is he the Beast? I hear you ask yourself.

Worse, I reply.

They settled in to married life and everything was fine for a few weeks. She cooked and cleaned and he did whatever it was that he did to earn money. It was comfortable.

Then the man was called away on business. Before he left, he warned her again to stay out of his study.

Alas she had always been curious. He'd been gone less than an hour before she'd fetched the key and was standing in the door of his study, wishing she'd listened to him. Surrounded by the corpses of his previous wives, she could do nothing but scream.

Her scream brought him back. He had never actually left. It was a test. She failed. Her punishment was to join the rest of his wives.

Eventually the man found a satisfactory woman who obeyed him completely. He also found that some of the thrill had gone out of his life.

No. Scratch that. I don't like that story at all. Do you?

Let's back up. Before the beginning. When the man and woman were betrothed.

Mary had always been curious, you see. She wasn't about to move into a house without at least seeing it first. Besides which, Mr. Fox had invited her to come see his estate. There was no reason for her to stay away and every reason to surprise him one evening.

One of the risks of surprising someone is that, not knowing your intentions, they may not be there to be surprised.

Undeterred by the owner's absence, Mary elected to explore the house on her own. It would soon be hers, after all.

She entered the grounds and walked down the path. On a series of arches between the gate and the door she read the following:

Be bold, be bold. 
But not too bold. 
Else your heart's blood 
shall run cold.

Boldness, like curiosity, was not something Mary lacked. She ignored the warning and continued into the house. It was only a matter of time before she came across her fiance's study, saw the corpses he kept like trophies.

Before she could decide what to do she heard Mr. Fox coming up the lane. Dragging the body of a young woman behind him.

Mary ran down the stairs, but she wasn't fast enough to escape the house. She ducked behind a table, hoping he'd be too preoccupied to see her. From her hiding place she saw him notice a diamond ring on his victim's figure, attempt to tug it off, grow frustrated, cut the finger off using a knife from his belt, tuck his prize into a pocket. That done, he resumed dragging the corpse upstairs. When he was gone, Mary grabbed the discarded finger and ran home.

On their wedding day, before the papers were to be signed, the families gathered to share a meal. With everyone there, Mary began to recount the tale of her visit to Mr. Fox's house. Over his repeated protests ("It is not so, nor twas it so, and God forbid it should be so.") she laid bare all she had seen, finally producing the finger of the latest woman he had killed. Mary's father and brothers wasted not a moment before leaping on Mr. Fox and hacking him to pieces.

***

The first of these stories is a French folktale called Bluebeard. It's several centuries old, possibly based on the crimes of Gilles de Rais, who lived in the early 15th century. Then again, it may predate him. The moral is clear: be obedient, not curious.

The second story, which rewards the woman for her curiosity, is an English folktale sometimes called The Robber Bridegroom and other times Mr. Fox. Again, it's hard to date this tale. William Shakespeare called it old when he referenced it in Much Ado About Nothing (Act I, scene i).

Because of the nature of oral traditions, not to mention the geographic distance between these two tales' origins, it's impossible to know which came first. But it certainly seems like one is a reaction to the other. And after all, Englad and France aren't so far from each other.

I first encountered Mr. Fox in college, in Neil Gaiman's The White Road. Gaiman elects to have Mary falsely accuse an innocent Mr. Fox, which is a choice I'm more wary of than I used to be. Still, the story captured my imagination at the time. It burrowed into my subconscious and stuck with me.

Years later, I cam across Bluebeard in a collection of modern retellings of fairy tales. I was intrigued enough to briefly look up the original tale, but Bluebeard didn't entrance me. Though it did haunt me, feeding on my love of vampires and driving me to distrust Mr. Rochester.

After I read White is for Witching, I went looking for more of Oyeyemi's work. It took me a while to actually pick up another of her books, but Mr. Fox has been on my mental book shelf since I heard of it. I love literature that takes apart and examines fairy tales. I knew Mr. Fox was concerned with Bluebeard. Oyeyemi is both vicious and smart, and I was eager to see her take on this particular tale.

Of course, I got caught up in other things. My sister-in-law told me she hadn't liked Mr. Fox, which caused me to hesitate, even as I saw praise for it all over the internet. Then my book club chose White is for Witching and I decided it was the perfect opportunity seek out Mr. Fox once and for all.

Ten pages in, that phrase is repeated: Be bold, be bold; but not too bold.

It was like an electric shock that sent my whole brain buzzing. I immediately found and re-read the Gaiman story. I fell down a wiki-hole, pulled books off my own shelves as I reminded myself of all the other times I had encountered those words, that story. I learned more, saw for the first time how the two tales comment on each other. I finally came up for air, eager, prepared for this book. I am intimately familiar with the framework, now, prepared to digest Oyeyemi's take.

By a stroke of luck, I also have Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride sitting on my to-read stack. I bought it on the same day I bought Mr. Fox, simply because I can't pass up a cheap copy of an Atwood book. It's about the same thing, with the genders swapped. I'm about to fall into a foxhole, surround myself with this tale. See you on the other side.

Back on the Bike

I (sort of accidentally) took three weeks off from exercising. I never mean to do this, but it happens. When it does, it's always so hard to get back into the routines that were so easy to let slip

It started with the fancy dinner party we threw a few weeks back when Chev was in town. We moved the bike to the laundry room so we'd have space to play True American. Then we never quite moved it back. The week ended up being incredibly busy. We were trying to clean up after the party, and then clean up more in preparation for the cleaning people. Plus we had to do laundry and pack and were leaving straight from work on Friday. So, knowing how little time I had anyway, working out was the first sacrifice I made to fit everything else in.

Then we were on vacation and instead of working out every day, I was eating out and drinking with friends and family. I was sick when I got home, which ended up killing another week's worth of exercise as I tried to pull myself back into normality. During this time I also stopped weighing myself. There's this weird fear that builds when you've been weighing yourself every day, trying to lose weight, and then you just stop for a while like this. I dealt by not dealing and took to avoiding the scale along with the bike.

Last weekend, even though I still wasn't feeling 100%, I went to buy a new bike. I'm determined to spend more time riding outside this year, and this seemed like the right weekend to get started on that. I even went for a ride, though it was short because Kevin got another flat tire less than a mile in. It felt good, though, to be back on the bike.

The next week I screwed up my courage and got on the scale, convinced I would find that I'd regained the three pounds I've managed to lose since the new year. To my surprise I'd managed to lose a pound instead.

It makes sense, once I stopped and thought about it. I hadn't really quit exercising as completely as I thought. I still met with my trainer that week after fancy dinner party. In San Diego we went on a 3 mile hike up a hill and along the beach. In Colorado I skied for two full days. Well, almost full days. And last week, sick as I felt, I still managed to get my butt to the gym and walk on the treadmill for half an hour.

Getting back in the habit of riding the bike hasn't been too bad. I've had to work up to it, because my cough is still lingering and breathing has been harder than it should be. Instead of 45 minutes on the bike each day, I managed to do 20. Then 30.

I'm hoping to get out for a ride this weekend, though that will depend a bit on the weather. Despite the warming weather during the week, we might be backtracking to winter for a day or two. Maybe I'll be okay with a sweatshirt and some ear muffs, though. I'm ready for Spring to get here, definitively, so I can go for nice long bike rides. I think  I may even be able to keep up with Kevin this year. Or at least not slow him down too horribly.

That may have to wait until next month though. In the meantime, I'll keep going with the stationary bike. Slowly but steadily losing some weight and getting in better shape.

Things That Are the Worst Things About Having a Cold

When you're brushing your teeth but your nose is so stuffed you can only breathe through your mouth

When you're brushing your teeth and your nose starts running

When you're brushing your teeth and all of the sudden you have to cough

When your daytime medicine has worn off and it's too late to take more but too early to switch to the nighttime medicine

When you lay down and you start coughing so you have to sit back up

When you're so tired you finally just fall asleep sitting up

When you have to choose between the hot toddy to soothe your throat and the NyQuil that will help you sleep maybe

When you realize you bought the stupid over-the-counter medicine instead of the good stuff with pseudoephedrine. Past-me, what were you thinking?

When your nose is running so much you have to actually carry the box of kleenex around with you

When your nose gets all raw because you've been blowing it too much, but it's not like you can stop blowing it

When the sun is finally shining after a long, cold winter and it feels like the whole universe is mocking you

When all you want to do is sleep, but instead your have to walk the dog and feed the cat

When you cough so hard you pee a little

Ski Trip

Every year our friends Alyssa and Brian organize a week-long ski trip in Colorado. Every year we have to miss it because our plans are so full of weddings and family that we can't find the extra time or money for a week-long vacation. But this year they added their wedding to the festivities and we were finally able to join everyone in Colorado for a few days of skiing and partying.

It's been five years since I've been skiing, and that was true the last time I went skiing, too. But last time it came back quickly, so I was confident it would this time too. And it mostly did, except that I no longer live in Colorado and hadn't quite thought to account for the extreme elevation change I would be dealing with.

This was somewhat mitigated by our arrival in Colorado on Monday with no plans to ski until Thursday. I figured this would give me plenty of time to adjust to the climate. Especially since we were spending two nights with my mom who lives at 8000 feet. It mostly worked. But with everything together (elevation, dry air, crowded condo, lots of skiing, impending illness), I was off balance for most of the week. Which mostly manifested as a lack of partying or even staying up late.

The skiing itself was a lot of fun. After a bumpy first run, during which I fell and spent several minutes wondering if I'd be able to get back up, I traded in for better equipment and did enough to have fun for the next couple of days. When I fell, I was convinced I had managed to twist my ankle. This should be (and is) impossible in ski boots, but my boots didn't fit great and my ankles are horrifically weak. I figured if there was going to be an exception, it would probably be me. Instead it appears that I merely bruised my ankle, albeit in the place that bugs me whenever I do twist or sprain it. Which happens entirely too often.

After that mishap and a bit of time to recover from it, Kevin and I had a lot of fun on the blues over on the west side of the mountain. They're a bit shorter and less steep than the ones on the east side of the mountain, and I had a lot of fun flying down them.

Around all of the skiing, the bride and groom had planned a bunch of events, including happy hours, lunch barbeques, and the bachelor ad bachelorette party. As I said, I wasn't up for much partying, but I did manage to hang out with everyone until at least 10 every night. I'm such an old person.

The wedding was on Saturday, but not until late in the day. Kevin and I used the time to go tubing (expensive, but highly recommended), wander around the village (I bought a sweatshirt) and hang out with beer and board games before it was time to get ready. The ceremony was lovely, with Bryan and Alyssa officiating their own wedding, which is a thing that I think should spread throughout the country. Currently it's only legal in Colorado and Pennsylvania. It adds a nice, personalized touch to weddings, especially those without a religious component.

Around our time in Copper, we also had a few meals in Idaho Springs (pizza at BaeuJo's and beer at Tommyknockers), visited with my parents, and read a bunch. We also go sick, with Kevin getting the bulk of his illness out of the way on Tuesday before we went up to the mountains and me suffering on the trip home. At least it didn't interfere too much with skiing and socializing. I just hope we didn't give it to anyone else staying in the condo with us.

Beach Living

When we were planning our trip to Colorado for Bryan and Alyssa's wedding, we decided to tack on a stop in San Diego to visit Kevin's sister. Because if you're already flying 2/3 of the way across this country, you might as well fly all the way.

Upon landing in the San Diego airport, the first thing I did was trade out my snow boots for flip flops. DC had been in the grip of an unusually cold winter (though it didn't feel nearly as cold as the previous winter, it was actually colder). The day before we flew, we got six inches of snow and everyone except me got to take a snow day. But Southern California was, as ever, a perfect 70 degrees. Erin, having grown used to the weather since moving there a year ago, was wearing a down vest while Kevin and I happily donned short sleeves.

While in California we snuck in as much beach and sun time as we could. The first day we went for a hike near one beach, then over to another one to see the seals. Then it was back to Erin's neighborhood for what are, reportedly, the best tacos in San Diego. They were pretty delicious. Unfortunately, I'm not used to all that sun and warmth and walking, so I faded kind of early that night after getting a bit sunburned (my purse rubbed off the sunscreen I'd put on my shoulder). Luckily the bar we ended the night at was only a couple of blocks from Erin's apartment, so it was easy to get home and let everyone else stay out later.

On the second day I was little less enthusiastic about being out in the sun. We went down to Mission Beach, which can easily be enjoyed from the shade of the boardwalk. We ate lunch/dinner at a bar with fantastic views at about 2 in the afternoon, then proceeded to drink beer and play shuffleboard before switching over to indoor/outdoor mini-golf. We finished the night off with make-your-own ice cream sandwiches, wine, and board games.

It was a quick trip, but so nice to get some sun and sand in before heading back to winter in Colorado. I got bored of the weather after living in California for four years, but it's definitely a nice place to visit. I'll have to start finding more excuses to get over to that side of the country, especially with all the friends and family who live out there.

sick

I have so much to write about. But this is what my life has been like since getting back from vacation.

This is my life right now

9:00 PM - I think I'll take a NyQuil and go to sleep
9:30 PM - Or maybe I'll just lay here and cough
10:00 PM - Still coughing
10:30 PM - I wish I had some PTO left
11:00 PM - Maybe I could just take leave without pay.
11:15 PM - No, I can't do that. I'll just work from home
11:30 PM - Except my computer's at the office
11:45 PM - Fuck Everything

6:00 AM - No
6:10 AM - No
6:20 AM - No
6:30 AM - FINE

6:45 AM - I wish Kevin were here

7:30 AM - Sudafed! Oh, thank God

1:00 PM - Why the hell did I buy 6-hour sudafed instead of 12-hour?

4:00 PM - All I want to do is go home and lay on the couch

5:30 PM - Do you really need to be walked twice a day, Kina?

7:00 PM - If I go to bed now, maybe I'll fall asleep by 10

I've been running on empty, and it's amazing to me that I've been able to do such basic things as walk the dog and feed myself. Not to mention getting a load of laundry done and running to the store. On top of all the actual work stuff I've had to do because I used up all my PTO to go on vacation where I got sick.

The good news is that I finally got a solid 8 hours of sleep last night (going to bed at 7 totally worked) and am feeling halfway human. So maybe Kevin won't come home to a pile of dirty dishes and an overflowing trash can (yeah, I totally forgot about trash day).

Mostly I just want it to be the weekend so I can lay on the couch for several hours and reset and tackle next week like a person. This one feels like a wash.

Fancy Party

Last week, our friend Chev came to DC for a conference and stayed through the weekend to visit. Kevin and I decided to throw a fancy dinner party, because we don't need much of an excuse to have all of our friends over. We made spaghetti and meatballs from scratch, with garlic bread and salad. The recipes didn't work quite as well as we'd hoped in the larger quantities we made - the noodles all got stuck together and the sauce never fully thickened - but everything was delicious nonetheless.

After dinner, we learned how to play True American, the drinking game from New Girl. It was really silly and a lot of fun and made a complete mess of our basement. Some of the questions tended a bit more towards British history than American history, and others were nothing more than inside jokes that only a handful of people ever stood a chance of answering correctly. That was probably due mostly to the alcohol. And an unfamiliarity with the game.

In the morning, we made bacon and pancakes and scrambled eggs and drank mimosas and played board games until people drifted home. It was a great weekend, and we have Chev completely convinced that she needs to move to DC. She should be here more permanently this summer, and I can't wait.